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BARNABY    RUDGE 


CHARLES    DICKENS 


VOL.    I. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  GEORGE  CATTERMOLE  AND 
HABLOT  K.   BROWNE. 


BOSTON: 

ESTES    &     LAURIAT. 

1890. 


EDITION  DE  LUXE. 
Limited  to  One  Thousand  Copies. 

^o.S^^.-^ 


TYPOGRAPHY  AND  RLECTROTYPING  BY  C.  J. 
PETERS  &-  SON.  PRINTED  AT  THE  EST ES 
PRESS,  BY  BERWICK  &>  SMITH,  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE. 


As  it  is  Mr.  Waterton's  opinion  that  ravens  are 
gradually  becoming  extinct  in  England,  I  offer  a 
few  words  here  about  mine. 

The  raven  in  this  story  is  a  compound  of  two 
great  originals,  of  whom  I  have  been,  at  different 
times,  the  proud  possessor.  The  first  was  in  the 
bloom  of  his  youth,  when  he  was  discovered  in  a 
modest  retirement  in  London  by  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  given  to  me.  He  had  from  the  first,  as  Sir 
Hugh  Evans  says  of  Anne  Page,  "good  gifts," 
which  he  improved  by  study  and  attention  in  a 
most  exemplary  manner.  He  slept  in  a  stable  — 
generally  on  horseback  —  and  so  terrified  a  New- 
foundland dog  by  his  preternatural  sagacity,  that  he 
has  been  known,  by  the  mere  superiority  of  his 
genius,  to  walk  off  unmolested  with  the  dog's 
dinner  before  his  face.  He  was  rapidly  rising  in 
acquirements  and  virtues,  when,  in  an  evil  hour,  his 
stable  was  newly  painted.  He  observed  the  work- 
men closely,  saw  that  they  were  careful  of  the  paint, 


IV  PREFACE. 

and  immediately  burned  to  possess  it.  On  their 
going  to  dinner,  he  ate  up  all  they  had  left  behind, 
consisting  of  a  pound  or  two  of  white-lead ;  and 
this  youthful  indiscretion  terminated  in  death. 

While  I  was  yet  inconsolable  for  his  loss,  another 
friend  of  mine  in  Yorkshire  discovered  an  older  and 
more  gifted  raven  at  a  village  public-house,  which  he 
prevailed  upon  the  landlord  to  part  with  for  a  con- 
sideration, and  sent  up  to  me.  The  first  act  of  this 
Sage  was,  to  administer  to  the  effects  of  his  prede- 
cessor by  disinterring  all  the  cheese  and  halfpence 
he  had  buried  in  the  garden  —  a  work  of  immense 
labor  and  research,  to  which  he  devoted  all  the 
energies  of  his  mind.  AVhen  he  had  achieved  this 
task,  he  applied  himself  to  the  acquisition  of  stable 
language,  in  which  he  soon  became  such  an  adept, 
that  he  would  perch  outside  my  window,  and  drive 
imaginary  horses  with  great  skill,  all  day.  Perhaps 
even  I  never  saw  him  at  his  best,  for  his  former 
master  sent  his  duty  with  him,  "  and  if  I  wished 
the  bird  to  come  out  very  strong,  would  I  be  so 
good  as  show  him  a  drunken  man  ?  "  —  which  I 
never  did,  having  (unfortunately)  none  but  sober 
people  at  hand.  But  I  could  liardly  have  respected 
him  more,  whatever  the  stimulating  influences  of 
this  sight  might  have  been.  He  had  not  the  least 
respect,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  for  me  in  return,  or  for 
anybody  but  the  cook ;  to  whom  he  was  attached  — 
but  only,  I  fear,  as  a  Policeman  might  have  been. 
Once,  I  met  liim  unexpectedly,  about  a  half  a  mile 


PKEFACE.  V 

off,  walking  down  the  middle  of  the  public  street, 
attended  by  a  pretty  large  crowd,  and  spontane- 
ously exhibiting  the  whole  of  his  accomplishments. 
His  gravity  under  those  trying  circumstances  I 
never  can  forget,  nor  the  extraordinary  gallantry 
with  which,  refusing  to  be  brought  home,  he  de- 
fended himself  behind  a  pump  until  overpowered 
by  numbers.  It  may  have  been  that  he  was  too 
bright  a  genius  to  live  long,  or  it  may  have  been 
that  he  took  some  pernicious  substance  into  his  bill, 
and  thence  into  his  maw — which  is  not  improbable, 
seeing  that  he  new-pointed  the  greater  part  of  the 
garden  wall  by  digging  out  the  mortar,  broke  count- 
less squares  of  glass  by  scraping  away  the  putty  all 
round  the  frames,  and  tore  up  and  swallowed,  in 
splinters,  the  greater  part  of  a  wooden  staircase  of 
six  steps  and  a  landing  —  but  after  some  three  years 
he  too  was  taken  ill,  and  died  before  the  kitchen 
fire.  He  kept  his  eye  to  the  last  upon  the  meat  as 
it  roasted,  and  suddenly  turned  over  on  his  back 
with  a  sepulchral  cry  of  "  Cuckoo ! " 

After  this  mournful  deprivation,  I  was,  for  a  long 
time,  ravenless.  The  kindness  of  another  friend  at 
length  provided  me  with  another  raven;  but  he  is 
not  a  genius.  He  leads  the  life  of  a  hermit  in  my 
little  orchard,  on  the  summit  of  Shakespeare's 
Gad's  Hill ;  he  has  no  relish  for  society ;  he  gives 
no  evidence  of  ever  cultivating  his  mind;  and  he 
has  picked  up  nothing  but  meat  since  I  have  known 
him  —  except  the  faculty  of  barking  like  a  dog. 


VI  PREFACE. 

Of  the  story  of  Barnaby  Kudge  itself,  I  do  not 
think  I  can  say  anything  here  more  to  the  purpose 
than  the  following  passages  from  the  original  Pref- 
axje :  — 

"  No  account  of  the  Gordon  Kiots  having  been  to 
my  knowledge  introduced  into  any  Work  of  Fiction, 
and  the  subject  presenting  very  extraordinary  and 
remarkable  features,  I  was  led  to  project  this  Tale. 

"  It  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  those  shameful 
tumults,  while  they  reflect  indelible  disgrace  upon 
the  time  in  which  they  occurred,  and  all  who  had 
act  or  part  in  them,  teach  a  good  lesson.  That 
what  we  falsely  call  a  religious  cry  is  easily  raised 
by  men  who  have  no  religion,  and  who  in  their  daily 
practice  set  at  naught  the  commonest  principles  of 
right  and  wrong ;  that  it  is  begotten  of  intolerance 
and  persecution ;  that  it  is  senseless,  besotted,  invet- 
erate, and  unmerciful ;  all  History  teaches  us.  But 
perhaps  v/e  do  not  know  it  in  our  hearts  too  well  to 
profit  by  even  so  humble  an  example  as  the  'No 
Po})Pry '  Riots  of  Seventeen  Hundred  and  Eighty. 

"However  imperfectly  those  disturbances  are  set 
forth  in  the  following  pages,  they  are  impartially 
painted  by  one  who  has  no  sympathy  with  the 
Komish  Church,  although  he  acknowledges,  as 
most  men  do,  some  esteemed  friends  among  the 
followers  of  its  creed. 

"  It  may  be  observed  that,  in  the  description  of 
the  principal  outrages,  reference  has  been  had  to 


PREFACE.  VU 

the  best  authorities  of  that  time,  such  as  they  are ; 
and  that  the  account  given  in  this  Tale,  of  all  the 
main  features  of  the  Riots,  is  substantially  correct. 

"  It  may  be  further  remarked,  that  Mr.  Dennis's 
allusions  to  the  flourishing  condition  of  his  trade  in 
those  days  have  their  foundation  in  Truth,  and  not 
in  the  Author's  fancy.  Any  file  of  old  Newspapers, 
or  odd  volume  of  the  Annual  Register,  will  prove 
this  with  terrible  ease. 

"Even  the  case  of  Mary  Jones,  dwelt  upon  with 
so  much  pleasure  by  the  same  character,  is  no  effort 
of  invention.  The  facts  were  stated,  exactly  as  they 
are  stated  here,  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Whether 
they  afforded  as  much  entertainment  to  the  merry 
gentlemen  assembled  there,  as  some  other  most  af- 
fecting circumstances  of  a  similar  nature  mentioned 
by  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,  is  not  recorded." 

That  the  case  of  Mary  Jones  may  speak  the  more 
emphatically  for  itself,  I  now  subjoin  it,  as  related 
by  Sir  William  Meredith  in  a  speech  in  Parlia- 
ment, "  on  Frequent  Executions,"  made  in  1777 :  — 

"Under  this  act,"  the  Shop-lifting  Act,  "one 
Mary  Jones  was  executed,  whose  case  I  shall  just 
mention ;  it  was  at  the  time  when  press-warrants 
were  issued,  on  the  alarm  about  Falkland  Islands. 
The  woman's  husband  was  pressed,  their  goods 
seized  for  some  debts  of  his,  and  she,  with  two 
small  children,  turned  into  the  streets  a  begging. 
It  is  a  circumstance  not  to  be  forgotten,  that  she 


Vm  PREFACE. 

was  very  young  (under  nineteen),  and  most  remark- 
ably handsome.  She  went  to  a  linendraper's  shop, 
took  some  coarse  linen  off  the  counter,  and  slipped 
it  under  her  cloak ;  the  shopman  saw  her,  and  she 
laid  it  down :  for  this  she  was  hanged.  Her  defence 
was  (I  have  the  trial  in  my  pocket),  'that  she  had 
lived  in  credit,  and  wanted  for  nothing,  till  a  press- 
gang  came  and  stole  her  husband  from  her;  but, 
since  then,  she  had  no  bed  to  lie  on ;  nothing  to 
give  her  children  to  eat;  and  they  were  almost 
naked;  and  perhaps  she  might  have  done  some- 
ehing  wrong,  for  she  hardly  knew  what  she  did.' 
The  parish  officers  testified  the  truth  of  this  story  ; 
but  it  seems  there  had  been  a  good  deal  of  shop- 
lifting about  Ludgate ;  an  example  was  thought 
necessary;  and  this  woman  was  hanged  for  the 
comfort  and  satisfaction  of  shop-keepers  in  Lud- 
gate Street.  When  brought  to  receive  sentence, 
she  behaved  in  such  a  frantic  manner  as  proved 
her  mind  to  be  in  a  distracted  and  desponding 
state;  and  the  child  was  sucking  at  her  breast 
when  she  set  out  for  Tyburn." 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 
VOL.  I. 


PAGE 

Portrait  of  Dickens  (j^t.  29).    From  a  Drawing 

BY  Alfred  Count  D'Orsay,  1841     .    .      Title  Page 

The  Maypole 1 

Mr.    Willet   and    his    Cronies    stare    at    the 

Stranger 7 

The  Stranger  leaves  the  Maypole 25 

Barnaby  and  Varden  examine   the    Wounded 

Man 42 

"Why,  what  the  Devil's  the  Matter  with  the 

Lad!" 57 

Sim  walked  up  and  down,  with  Folded  Arms   .  59 

Mr.  Varden  questions  Edward  Chester     ...  75 

The  Secret  Society  of  'Prentice  Knights      .     .  9G 

"I  don't  go  to  Bed  this  Night!"  said  Miggs     .  108 

The  Maypole's  Best  Apartment 116 

Hugh,  sleeping,  lay  stretched  upon  the  Bench,  128 

The  Maypole 145 

Mr.  Haredale  and  Edward  Chester 1G3 

"Ned is  amazingly  Patient!"  said  Mr.  Chester,  1G9 

A  House  in  Old  London 183 

"He  flaps  his  Wings  as  if  there  were  Stran- 
gers here  " 196 

"Obey  then!"  said  Mr.  Tappebtit,  haughtily,  209 
ix 


X  LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Dolly  brings  Emma  a  Letter  from  Edward  .    .  228 

iiugh  meets  dolly  in  the  path 236 

The  Maypole's  own  State  Couch 256 

"I  drink  to  THE  Drink,  Master" 265 

Mr.    Chester  about  to   take   his  Seat  in  the 

Chair 270 

Mrs.  Rudge  and  Mr.  Haredale  on  her  Depar- 
ture   286 

John,  fast  asleep  in  his  Cosey  Bar 291 

Mr.  Chester  calls  on  the  Yardens 308 

Miss  Haredale' s  Usual  Walk 332 

"You're  the  Boy,  Sir" 344 

Joe  and  Dolly  just  as  he  departs 360 

"You  have  had  a  Cool  Dismissal,  have  you?".  367 

Solomon  Daisy  dashes  into  the  Room     ....  379 

"  WiLLET,  WHY  DO  YOU  BRING  THAT  FeLLOW  HERE?  "  390 

Lord  George  and  Party  stop  at  the  Maypole,  402 

Hugh  enters  Gashford's  Room 431 

No-PoPERY  Dance 439 

Mr.  Tappertit  discovers  an  Old  Acquaintance,  443 

Mr.  Tappertit  makes  a  Speech 446 

Mr.    Varden    dressing    for    the    Royal    East 

London  Volunteers'  Parade 475 


-^^^yJi^f  ':;,--^. 


BAEIsTABY  EUDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


In  the  year  1775  there  stood  upon  the  borders  of 
Epping  Forest,  at  a  distance  of  about  twelve  miles 
from  London  —  measuring  from  the  Standard  in 
Cornhill,  or  rather  from  the  spot  on  or  near  to  which 
the  Standard  used  to  be  in  days  of  yore  —  a  house 
of  public  entertainment  called  the  Maypole ;  which 
fact  was  demonstrated  to  all  such  travellers  as  could 
neither  read  nor  write  (and  sixty-six  years  ago  a 
vast  number  both  of  travellers  and  stay-at-homes 
were  in  this  condition)  by  the  emblem  reared  on  the 
roadside  over  against  the  house,  which,  if  not  of 
those  goodly  proportions  that  Maypoles  were  wont 
to  present  in  olden  times,  was  a  fair  young  ash, 
thirty  feet  in  height,  and  straight  as  any  arrow  that 
ever  English  yeoman  drew. 

The  Maypole  —  by  which  term  from  henceforth 
is  meant  the  house,  and  not  its  sign  —  the  Maypole 
was  an  old  building,  with  more  gable-ends  than  a 
lazy  man  would  care  to  count  on  a  sunny  day ;  huge 
zigzag  chimneys,  out  of  which  it  seemed  as  though 
even  smoke  could  not  choose  but  come  in  more  than 
naturally  fantastic  shapes,  imparted  to  it  in  its  tor- 
VOL.  i.-l.  1 


2  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

tuous  progress ;  and  vast  stables,  gloomy,  ruinous, 
and  empty.  The  place  was  said  to  have  been  built 
in  the  days  of  King  Henry  the  Eighth ;  and  there 
was  a  legend,  not  only  that  Queen  Elizabeth  had 
slept  there  one  night  while  upon  a  hunting  excursion, 
to  .wit,  in  a  certain  oak-panelled  room  with  a  deep 
bay-window,  but  that  next  morning,  while  standing 
on  a  mounting  block  before  the  door  with  one  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  the  virgin  monarch  had  then  and 
there  boxed  and  cuffed  an  unlucky  page  for  some 
neglect  of  duty.  The  matter-of-fact  and  doubtful 
folks,  of  whom  there  were  a  few  among  the  May- 
pole customers,  as  unluckily  there  always  are  in 
every  little  community,  were  inclined  to  look  upon 
this  tradition  as  rather  apocryphal ;  but,  whenever 
the  landlord  of  that  ancient  hostelry  appealed  to  the 
mounting  block  itself  as  evidence,  and  triumphantly 
pointed  out  that  there  it  stood  in  the  same  place  to 
that  very  day,  the  doubters  never  failed  to  be  put 
down  by  a  large  majority,  and  all  true  believers  ex- 
ulted as  in  a  victory. 

Whether  these,  and  many  other  stories  of  the  like 
nature,  were  true  or  untrue,  the  Maypole  was  really 
an  old  house,  a  very  old  house,  perhaps  as  old  as  it 
claimed  to  be,  and  perhaps  older,  which  will  some- 
times ha{)pen  with  houses  of  an  uncertain,  as  with 
ladies  of  a  certain,  age.  Its  windows  were  old  dia- 
mond-pane lattices,  its  floors  were  sunken  and  un- 
even, its  ceilings  blackened  by  the  hand  of  time  and 
heavy  with  massive  beams.  Over  the  doorway  was 
an  ajicient  porch,  quaintly  and  grotesquely  carved ; 
and  liere  on  summer  evenings  the  more  favored  cus- 
tomers snujked  and  drank  —  ay,  and  sang  many  a 
good  song  too,  sometimes  —  reposing  on  two  grim- 


BAENABY   KUDGE.  3 

looking  high-backed  settles,  which,  like  the  twin 
dragons  of  some  fairy  tale,  guarded  the  entrance  to 
the  mansion. 

In  the  chimneys  of  the  disused  rooms  swallows 
had  built  their  nests  for  many  a  long  year,  and  from 
earliest  spring  to  latest  autumn  whole  colonies-of 
sparrows  chirped  and  twittered  in  the  eaves.  There 
were  more  pigeons  about  the  dreary  stable-yard  and 
outbuildings  than  anybody  but  the  landlord  could 
reckon  up.  The  wheeling  and  circling  flights  of 
runts,  fantails,  tumblers,  and  pouters  were  perliaps 
not  quite  consistent  with  the  grave  and  sober  char- 
acter of  the  building,  but  the  monotonous  cooing, 
which  never  ceased  to  be  raised  by  some  among 
them  all  day  long,  suited  it  exactly,  and  seemed  to 
lull  it  to  rest.  With  its  overhanging  stories,  drowsy 
little  panes  of  glass,  and  front  bulging  out  and  pro- 
jecting over  the  pathway,  the  old  house  looked  as  if 
it  were  nodding  in  its  sleep.  Indeed,  it  needed  no 
very  great  stretch  of  fancy  to  detect  in  it  other  re- 
semblances to  humanity.  The  bricks  of  which  it 
was  built  had  originally  been  a  deep  dark  red,  but 
had  grown  yellow  and  discolored  like  an  old  man's 
skin ;  the  sturdy  timbers  had  decayed  like  teeth ; 
and  liere  and  there  the  ivy,  like  a  warm  garment  to 
comfort  it  in  its  age,  Avrapped  its  green  leaves 
closely  round  the  time-worn  walls. 

It  was  a  hale  and  hearty  age,  though,  still :  and 
in  the  summer  or  autumn  evenings,  when  the  glow 
of  the  setting  sun  fell  upon  the  oak  and  chestnut 
trees  of  the  adjacent  forest,  the  old  house,  partak- 
ing of  its  lustre,  seemed  their  fit  companion,  and  to 
have  many  good  years  of  life  in  him  yet. 

The   evening    with   which   we   have   to   do   was 


4  BAKXABY   KUDGE. 

neither  a  summer  nor  an  autumn  one,  but  the  twi- 
light of  a  day  in  March,  when  the  wind  howled 
dismally  among  the  bare  branches  of  the  trees,  and 
rumbling  in  the  wide  chimneys  and  driving  the  rain 
against  the  wiiulows  of  the  Maypole  Inn,  gave  such 
of  its  frequenters  as  chanced  to  be  there  at  the 
moment  an  undeniable  reason  for  prolonging  their 
stay,  and  caused  the  landlord  to  prophesy  that  the 
night  would  certainly  clear  at  eleven  o'clock  pre- 
cisely,—  which,  by  a  remarkable  coincidence,  was 
the  hour  at  which  he  always  closed  his  house. 

The  name  of  him  upon  whom  the  spirit  of 
prophecy  thus  descended  was  John  Willet,  a  burly, 
large-headed  man  with  a  fat  face,  which  betokened 
profound  obstinacy  and  slowness  of  apprehension, 
combined  with  a  very  strong  reliance  upon  his  own 
merits.  It  was  John  Willet's  ordinary'  boast,  in  his 
more  placid  moods,  that  if  he  were  slow  he  was 
sure  ;  which  assertion  could,  in  one  sense  at  least, 
be  by  no  means  gainsaid,  seeing  that  he  was  in 
everything  unquestionably  the  reverse  of  fast,  and 
withal  one  of  the  most  dogged  and  ])Ositive  fellows 
in  existence  —  always  sure  that  what  he  thought  or 
said  or  did  was  right,  and  holding  it  as  a  thing  quite 
settled  and  ordained  by  the  laws  of  nature  and  Provi- 
dence, that  anybody  who  said  or  did  or  thought 
otherwise  must  be  inevitably  and  of  necessity 
wrong. 

Mr.  Willet  walked  slowly  up  to  the  window, 
flattened  his  fat  nose  against  the  cold  glass,  and, 
shading  his  eyes  that  his  sight  might  not  be  af- 
flicted by  the  ruddy  glow  of  the  fire,  looked  abroad. 
Then  he  walked  slowly  back  to  his  old  seat  in  the 
chimney-corner,  and,  composing  himself  in  it  with  a 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  5 

slight  shiver,  such  as  a  man  might  give  way  to,  and 
so  acquire  an  additional  relish  for  the  warm  blaze, 
said,  looking  round  upon  his  guests,  — 

"  It'll  clear  at  eleven  o'clock.  No  sooner  and  no 
later.     Not  before  and  not  arterwards." 

"  How  do  you  make  out  that  ?  "  said  a  little  man 
in  the  opposite  corner.  "  The  moon  is  past  the  full, 
and  she  rises  at  nine." 

John  looked  sedately  and  solemnly  at  his  ques- 
tioner until  he  had  brought  his  mind  to  bear  upon 
the  whole  of  his  observation,  and  then  made  answer, 
in  a  tone  which  seemed  to  imply  that  the  moon  was 
peculiarly  his  business  and  nobody  else's,  — 

"  Never  you  mind  about  the  moon.  Don't  you 
trouble  yourself  about  her.  You  let  the  moon  alone, 
and  I'll  let  you  alone." 

"  No  offence  I  hope  ?  "  said  the  little  man. 

Again  John  waited  leisurely  until  the  observation 
had  thoroughly  penetrated  to  his  brain,  and  then 
replying,  "  No  offence  as  ijet"  applied  a  light  to  his 
pipe  and  smoked  in  placid  silence ;  now  and  then 
casting  a  sidelong  look  at  a  man  wrapped  in  a  loose 
riding-coat  with  huge  cuffs  ornamented  with  tar- 
nished silver  lace  and  large  metal  buttons,  who  sat 
apart  from  the  regular  frequenters  of  the  house,  and 
wearing  a  hat  flapped  over  his  face,  which  was  still 
further  shaded  by  the  hand  on  which  his  forehead 
rested,  looked  unsociable  enough. 

There  was  another  guest,  who  sat,  booted  and 
spurred,  at  some  distance  from  the  fire  also,  and 
whose  thoughts — to  judge  from  his  folded  arms 
and  knitted  brows,  and  from  the  untasted  liquor 
before  him  —  were  occupied  with  other  matters  than 
the  topics  under  discussion  or  the  persons  who  dis- 


6  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

cussed  them.  This  was  a  young  man  of  about  eight 
and  twenty,  rather  above  the  middle  height,  and 
tliougli  of  a  somewhat  slight  figure,  gracefully  and 
strongly  made.  He  wore  his  own  dark  hair,  and 
was  accoutred  in  a  riding-dress,  which,  together  with 
his  large  boots  (resembling  in  shape  and  fashion 
those  worn  by  our  Life  Guardsmen  at  the  present 
day),  showed  indisputable  traces  of  the  bad  con- 
dition of  the  roads.  But  travel-stained  though 
he  was,  he  was  well  and  even  richly  attired,  and, 
Avithout  being  overdressed,  looked  a  gallant  gentle- 
man. 

Lying  upon  the  table  beside  him,  as  he  had  care- 
lessly thrown  them  down,  were  a  heavy  riding-whip 
and  a  slouched  hat,  the  latter  worn,  no  doubt,  as 
being  best  suited  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 
There,  too,  were  a  pair  of  pistols  in  a  holster  case, 
and  a  short  riding-cloak.  Little  of  his  face  was 
visible,  except  the  long  dark  lashes  which  concealed 
his  downcast  eyes,  but  an  air  of  careless  ease  and 
natural  gracefulness  of  demeanor  pervaded  the 
figure,  and  seemed  to  comprehend  even  these  slight 
accessories,  which  were  all  handsome,  and  in  good 
keeping. 

Towards  this  young  gentleman  the  eyes  of  Mr. 
Willet  wandered  but  once,  and  then  as  if  in  mute 
inquiry  whether  he  had  observed  his  silent  neigh- 
bor. It  Avas  plain  that  John  and  the  young  gentle- 
man had  often  met  before.  Finding  that  his  look 
was  not  returned,  or  indeed  observed  by  the  person 
to  whom  it  was  addressed,  John  gra,dually  concen- 
trated the  whole  power  of  his  eyes  into  one  focus, 
and  brought  it  to  bear  upon  the  man  in  the  flapped 
liat,  at  whom  he  came  to  stare  in  course  of  time 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  7 

with  an  intensity  so  remarkable,  that  it  affected  his 
fireside  cronies,  who  all,  as  with  one  accord,  took 
their  pipes  from  their  lips,  and  stared  with  open 
mouths  at  the  stranger  likewise. 

The  sturdy  landlord  had  a  large  pair  of  dull  fish- 
like eyes,  and  the  little  man  who  had  hazarded  the 
remark  about  the  moon  (and  who  was  the  parish 
clerk  and  bell-ringer  of  Chigwell ;  a  village  hard 
by),  had  little  round  black  shiny  eyes  like  beads ; 
moreover,  this  little  man  wore  at  the  knees  of  his 
rusty  black  breeches,  and  on  his  rusty  black  coat, 
and  all  down  his  long  flapped  waistcoat,  little  queer 
buttons  like  nothing  except  his  eyes ;  but  so  like 
them,  that  as  they  twinkled  and  glistened  in  the 
light  of  the  fire,  which  shone  too  in  his  bright  shoe- 
buckles,  he  seemed  all  eyes  from  head  to  foot,  and 
to  be  gazing  with  every  one  of  them  at  the  unknown 
customer.  Xo  wonder  that  a  man  should  grow  rest- 
less under  such  an  inspection  as  this,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  eyes  belonging  to  short  Tom  Cobb  the  general 
chandler  and  post-office  keeper,  and  long  Phil  Parkes 
the  ranger,  both  of  whom,  infected  by  the  example 
of  their  companions,  regarded  him  of  the  flapped 
hat  no  less  attentively. 

The  stranger  became  restless  ;  perhaps  from  being 
exposed  to  this  raking  fire  of  eyes,  perhaps  from 
the  nature  of  his  previous  meditations  —  most 
probably  from  the  latter  cause,  for,  as  he  changed 
his  position  and  looked  hastily  round,  he  started  to 
find  himself  the  object  of  such  keen  regard,  and 
darted  an  angry  and  suspicious  glance  at  the  fireside 
group.  It  had  the  effect  of  immediately  diverting 
all  eyes  to  the  chimney,  except  those  of  John  Willet, 
who,  finding  himself,  as  it  were,  caught  in  the  fact, 


8  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

and  not  being  (as  has  been  already  observed)  of  a 
very  ready  nature,  remained  staring  at  his  guest  in 
a  particularly  awkward  and  disconcerted  manner. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

Well.  There  was  not  much  in  well.  It  was  not 
a  long  speech.  <'I  thought  you  gave  an  order," 
said  the  landlord,  after. a  pause  of  two  or  three 
minutes  for  consideration. 

The  stranger  took  off  his  hat,  and  disclosed  the 
hard  features  of  a  man  of  sixty  or  thereabouts,  much 
weather-beaten  and  worn  by  time,  and  the  naturally 
harsh  expression  of  which  was  not  improved  by  a 
dark  handkerchief  which  was  bound  tightly  round 
his  head,  and,  while  it  served  the  purpose  of  a  wig, 
shaded  his  forehead,  and  almost  hid  his  eyebrows. 
If  it  were  intended  to  conceal  or  divert  attention 
from  a  deep  gash,  now  healed  into  an  ugly  seam, 
which  when  it  was  first  inflicted  must  have  laid  bare 
his  cheek-bone,  the  object  was  but  indifferently 
attained,  for  it  could  scarcely  fail  to  be  noted  at  a 
glance.  His  complexion  was  of  a  cadaverous  hue, 
and  he  had  a  grizzly  jagged  beard  of  some  three 
weeks'  date.  Such  was  the  figure  (very  meanly  and 
poorly  clad)  that  now  rose  from  the  seat,  and  stalk- 
ing across  the  room,  sat  down  in  a  corner  of  the 
chimney,  which  the  politeness  or  fears  of  the  little 
clerk  very  readily  assigned  to  him. 

"  A  highwayman ! "  whispered  Tom  Cobb  to 
Parkes  the  ranger. 

"  Do  you  suppose  highwaymen  don't  dress  hand- 
somer than  that  ?  "  replied  Parkes.  "  It's  a  better 
business  than  you  think  for,  Tom,  and  highwaymen 
don't  need  or  use  to  be  shabby,  take  my  word  for  it." 

Meanwliile,  the  subject  of  their  speculations  had 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  9 

done  due  honor  to  the  house  by  calling  for  some 
drink,  -which  was  promptly  supplied  by  the  land- 
lord's son,  Joe,  a  broad-shouldered  strapping  young 
fellow  of  twenty,  whom  it  pleased  his  father  still  to 
consider  a  little  boy,  and  to  treat  accordingly. 
Stretching  out  his  hands  to  warm  them  by  the 
blazing  fire,  the  man  turned  his  head  toAvards  the 
company,  and  after  running  his  eye  sharply  over 
them,  said  in  a  voice  well  suited  to  his  appearance, — 

''  What  house  is  that  which  stands  a  mile  or  so 
from  here  ?  " 

"  Public-house  ?  "  said  the  landlord,  with  his  usual 
deliberation. 

"  Public-house,  father ! "  exclaimed  Joe.  "  Where's 
the  public-house  within  a  mile  or  so  of  the  May- 
pole ?  He  means  the  great  house  —  the  Warren  — 
naturally  and  of  course.  The  old  red-brick  house, 
sir,  that  stands  in  its  own  grounds  — " 

"■  Ay,"  said  the  stranger. 

"  And  that  fifteen  or  twenty  years  ago  stood  in  a 
park  five  times  as  broad,  which,  Avith  other  and 
richer  property,  has  bit  by  bit  changed  hands  and 
dwindled  away  —  more's  the  pity!"  pursued  the 
young  man. 

"Maybe,"  was  the  reply.  '^But  my  question 
related  to  the  owner.  What  it  has  been  I  don't 
care  to  know,  and  what  it  is  I  can  see  for  myself." 

The  heir-apparent  to  the  Maypole  pressed  his 
finger  on  his  lips,  and  glancing  at  the  young  gentle- 
man already  noticed,  who  had  changed  his  attitude 
when  the  house  was  first  mentioned,  replied  in  a 
lower  tone,  — 

"The  owner's  name  is  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey  Hare- 
dale,  and "  —  again  he  glanced  in  the  same  direc- 


10  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

tion  as  before  —  '-'and  a  worthy  gentleman  too  — 
hem  ! " 

Paying  as  little  regard  to  this  admonitory  cough 
as  to  the  significant  gesture  that  had  preceded  it,  the 
stranger  pursued  his  questioning. 

"  I  turned  out  of  my  way  coming  here,  and  took 
the  footpath  that  crosses  the  grounds.  Who  was  the 
young  lady  that  I  saw  entering  a  carriage  ?  His 
daughter  ?  " 

"  "Why,  how  should  I  know,  honest  man  ?  "  replied 
Joe,  contriving,  in  the  course  of  some  arrangements 
about  the  hearth,  to  advance  close  to  his  questioner 
and  pluck  him  by  the  sleeve.  "  /  didn't  see  the 
young. lady  you  know.  Whew!  There's  the  wind 
again  —  and  rain.     Well,  it  is  a  night !  " 

"  Kough  weather  indeed ; "  observed  the  strange 
man. 

"  You're  used  to  it  ? "  said  Joe,  catching  at 
anything  which  seemed  to  promise  a  diversion  of 
the  subject. 

"  Pretty  well,"  returned  the  other.  "  About  the 
young  lady  —  Has  ]\Ir.  Haredale  a  daughter  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  the  young  fellow  fretfully,  "he's  a 
single  gentleman  —  he's  — be  quiet,  can't  you,  man  ? 
Don't  you  see  this  talk  is  not  relished  yonder  ?  " 

liegardless  of  this  whispered  remonstrance,  and 
affecting  not  to  hear  it,  his  tormentor  provokingly 
continued :  — 

"  Single  men  have  had  daughters  before  now. 
Perhaps  she  may  be  his  daughter,  though  he  is  not 
married." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Joe,  adding  in  an 
undertone,  as  he  approached  him  again,  "You'll 
come  in  for  it  presently,  I  know  you  will ! " 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  11 

"I  mean  no  harm,"  returned  the  traveller  boldly, 
"  and  have  said  none  that  I  know  of.  I  ask  a  few 
questions  —  as  any  stranger  may,  and  not  unnatu- 
rally —  about  the  inmates  of  a  remarkable  house  in 
a  neighborhood  which  is  new  to  me,  and  you  are 
as  aghast  and  disturbed  as  if  I  were  talking  treason 
against  King  George.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  why, 
sir,  for  (as  I  say)  I  am  a  stranger,  and  this  is  Greek 
to  me  ?  " 

The  latter  observation  was  addressed  to  the  obvi- 
ous cause  of  Joe  Willet's  discomposure,  who  had 
risen  and  was  adjusting  his  riding-cloak  preparatory 
to  sallying  abroad.  Briefly  replying  that  he  could 
give  him  no  information,  the  young  man  beckoned 
to  Joe,  and  handing  him  a  piece  of  money  in  pay- 
ment of  his  reckoning,  hurried  out,  attended  by 
young  Willet  himself,  who,  taking  up  a  candle,  fol- 
lowed to  light  him  to  the  house  door. 

While  Joe  was  absent  on  this  errand,  the  elder 
"Willet  and  his  three  companions  continued  to  smoke 
with  profound  gravity,  and  in  a  deep  silence,  each 
having  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  huge  copper  boiler  that  was 
suspended  over  the  fire.  After  some  time  John  Wil- 
let slowly  shook  his  head,  and  thereupon  his  friends 
slowly  shook  theirs ;  but  no  man  withdreAv  his  eyes 
from  the  boiler,  or  altered  the  solemn  expression  of 
his  countenance  in  the  slightest  degree. 

At  length  Joe  returned  —  very  talkative  and  con- 
ciliatory, as  though  with  a  strong  presentiment  that 
he  was  going  to  be  found  fault  with. 

"  Such  a  thing  as  love  is  ! "  he  said,  drawing  a 
chair  near  the  fire,  and  looking  round  for  sympathy. 
"  He  has  set  off  to  walk  to  London,  —  all  the  way  to 
London.     His  nag  gone  lame  in  riding  out  here  this 


12  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

blessed  afternoon,  and  comfortably  littered  down  in 
our  stable  at  this  minute ;  and  he  giving  up  a  good 
hot  supper  and  our  best  bed,  because  Miss  Haredalo 
has  gone  to  a  masquerade  up  in  town,  and  he  has 
set  his  heart  upon  seeing  her  I  I  don't  think  I  could 
persuade  myself  to  do  that,  beautiful  as  she  is,  — 
but  then  I'm  not  in  love  (at  least  I  don't  think  I 
am),  and  that's  the  whole  difference." 

"  He  is  in  love  then  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  Rather,"  replied  Joe.  "  He'll  never  be  more  in 
love,  and  may  very  easily  be  less." 

"  Silence,  sir !  "  cried  his  father. 

"  What  a  chap  you  are,  Joe  !  "  said  Long  Parkes. 

"  Such  a  inconsiderate  lad ! "  murmured  Tom 
Cobb. 

"  Putting  himself  forward  and  wringing  the  very 
nose  off  his  own  father's  face  ! "  exclaimed  the  par- 
ish clerk  metaphorically. 

"What  have  I  done  ?  "  reasoned  poor  Joe. 

"  Silence,  sir  !  "  returned  his  father.  "  What  do 
you  mean  by  talking,  when  you  see  people  that  are 
more  than  two  or  three  times  your  age,  sitting  still 
and  silent,  and  not  dreaming  of  saying  a  word  ?  " 

"  Why  that's  the  proper  time  for  me  to  talk, 
isn't  it  ? "  said  Joe  rebelliously. 

"  The  proper  time,  sir,"  retorted  his  father  ;  "  the 
proper  time's  no  time." 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure  !  "  muttered  Parkes,  nodding 
gravely  to  the  other  two,  who  nodded  likewise,  ob- 
serving under  their  breaths  that  that  was  the  point. 

"The  proper  time's  no  time,  sir,"  repeated  John 
Willet ;  "  when  I  was  your  age  I  never  talked,  I 
never  wanted  to  talk.  I  listened  and  improved 
myself,  that's  what  /  did." 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  13 

"  And  you'd  find  your  father  rather  a  tough  cus- 
tomer in  argeyment,  Joe,  if  anybody  was  to  try  and 
tackle  him,"  said  Parkes. 

"  For  the  matter  o'  that,  Phil,"  observed  Mr.  Wil- 
let,  blowing  a  long  thin,  spiral  cloud  of  smoke  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  and  staring  at  it  abstract- 
edly as  it  floated  away ;  "  for  the  matter  o'  that, 
Phil,  argeyment  is  a  gift  of  Natur.  If  Natur  has 
gifted  a  man  with  powers  of  argeyment,  a  man  has 
a  right  to  make  the  best  of  'em,  and  has  not  a  right 
to  stand  on  false  delicacy,  and  deny  that  he  is  so 
gifted ;  for  that  is  a  turning  of  his  back  on  iSTatur,  a 
flouting  of  her,  a  slighting  of  her  precious  caskets, 
and  a  proving  of  one's  self  to  be  a  swine  that  isn't 
worth  her  scattering  pearls  before." 

The  landlord  pausing  here  for  a  very  long  time, 
Mr.  Parkes  naturally  concluded  that  he  had  brought 
his  discourse  to  an  end ;  and  therefore,  turning  to  the 
young  man  with  some  austerity,  exclaimed,  — 

*'  You  hear  what  your  father  says,  Joe  ?  You 
wouldn't  much  like  to  tackle  him  in  argeyment,  I'm 
thinking,  sir." 

"  —  If,"  said  John  Willet,  turning  his  eyes  from 
the  ceiling  to  the  face  of  his  interrupter,  and  uttering 
the  monosyllable  in  capitals,  to  apprise  him  that  he 
had  put  in  his  oar,  as  the  vulgar  say,  with  unbecom- 
ing and  irreverent  haste  ;  "  If,  sir,  Natur  has  fixed 
upon  me  the  gift  of  argeyment,  why  should  I  not 
own  to  it,  and  rather  glory  in  the  same  ?  Yes,  sir, 
1  ain  a  tough  customer  that  way.  You  are  right, 
sir.  My  toughness  has  been  proved,  sir,  in  this 
room  many  and  many  a  time,  as  I  think  you  know  ; 
and  if  you  don't  know,"  added  John,  putting  his  pipe 
in  his  mouth  again,  "  so  much  the  better,  for  I  ain't 
proud,  and  am  not  going  to  tell  you." 


14  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

A  general  murmur  from  his  three  cronies,  and  a 
general  shaking  of  lieads  at  the  copper  boiler, 
assured  John  Willet  that  they  had  had  good  experi- 
ence of  his  powers,  and  needed  no  further  evidence 
to  assure  them  of  his  superiority.  John  smoked 
with  a  little  more  dignity,  and  surveyed  them  in 
silence. 

'"  It's  all  very  fine  talking,"  muttered  Joe,  who  had 
been  fidgeting  in  his  chair  with  divers  uneasy  ges- 
tures. "But  if  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  I'm  never 
to  open  my  lips  —  " 

"  Silence,  sir  ! "  roared  his  father.  "  No,  you 
never  are.  When  your  opinion's  wanted,  you  give 
it.  When  you're  spoke  to,  you  speak.  When  your 
opinion's  not  wanted,  and  you're  not  spoke  to,  don't 
you  give  an  opinion,  and  don't  you  speak.  The 
world's  undergone  a  nice  alteration  since  my  time, 
certainly.  My  belief  is  that  there  ain't  any  boys  left 
—  that  there  isn't  such  a  thing  as  a  boy  —  that  there's 
nothing  now  between  a  male  baby  and  a  man  —  and 
that  all  the  boys  went  out  with  liis  blessed  Majesty 
King  George  the  Second." 

"  That's  a  very  true  observation,  always  excepting 
the  young  princes,"  said  the  parish  clerk,  who,  as 
the  representative  of  church  and  state  in  that  com- 
pany, held  himself  bound  to  the  nicest  loyalty.  "  If 
it's  godly  and  righteous  for  boys,  being  of  the  ages 
of  boys,  to  behave  themselves  like  boys,  then  the 
young  princes  must  be  boys,  and  cannot  be  other- 
wise." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  tell  of  mermaids,  sir  ?  "  said 
Mr.  WiUet. 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Willet.      "According  to 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  15 

the  constitution  of  mermaids,  so  much  of  a  mermaid 
as  is  not  a  woman  must  be  a  fish.  According  to  the 
constitution  of  young  princes,  so  much  of  a  young 
prince  (if  anything)  as  is  not  actually  an  angel, 
must  be  godly  and  righteous.  Therefore,  if  it's 
becoming  and  godly  and  righteous  in  the  young 
princes  (as  it  is  at  their  ages)  that  they  should  be 
boys,  they  are  and  must  be  boys,  and  cannot  by 
possibility  be  anything  else." 

This  elucidation  of  a  knotty  point  being  received 
with  such  marks  of  approval  as  to  put  John  Willet 
into  a  good  humor,  he  contented  himself  with  re- 
peating to  his  son  his  command  of  silence,  and 
addressing  the  stranger,  said, — 

'^  If  you  had  asked  your  questions  of  a  grown-up 
person  —  of  me  or  any  of  these  gentlemen  —  you'd 
have  had  some  satisfaction,  and  wouldn't  have 
w^asted  breath.  Miss  Haredale  is  Mr.  Geoffrey 
Haredale's  niece." 

"  Is  her  father  alive  ?  "  said  the  man  carelessly. 

"Ko,"  rejoined  the  landlord,  "he  is  not  alive,  and 
he  is  not  dead  —  " 

"  Not  dead  !  "  cried  the  other. 

"  Not  dead  in  a  common  sort  of  way,"  said  the 
landlord. 

The  cronies  nodded  to  each  other,  and  IMr.  Parkes 
remarked  in  an  undertone,  shaking  his  head  mean- 
while as  who  should  say,  "  Let  no  man  contradict  me, 
for  I  won't  believe  him,"  that  John  AYillet  was  in 
amazing  force  to-night,  and  fit  to  tackle  a  Chief 
Justice. 

The  stranger  suffered  a  short  pause  to  elapse,  and 
then  asked  abruptly,  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  More  than  you  think  for,  friend,"  returned  John 


16  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

Willet.  "Perhaps  there's  more  meaning  in  them 
words  than  you  suspect." 

"  Perhaps  there  is,"  said  the  strange  man  gruffly ; 
"but  what  the  devil  do  you  speak  in  such  mysteries 
for  ?  You  tell  me,  first,  that  a  man  is  not  alive,  nor 
yet  dead  —  then,  that  he's  not  dead  in  a  common 
sort  of  way  —  then,  that  you  mean  a  great  deal 
more  than  I  think  for.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  you 
may  do  that  easily ;  for,  so  far  as  I  can  make  out, 
you  mean  nothing.  What  do  you  mean,  I  ask 
again  ?  " 

"That,"  returned  the  landlord,  a  little  brought 
down  from  his  dignity  by  the  stranger's  surliness, 
"  is  a  Maypole  story,  and  has  been  any  time  these 
four  and  twenty  years.  That  story  is  Solomon 
Daisy's  story.  It  belongs  to  the  house ;  and  nobody 
but  Solomon  Daisy  has  ever  told  it  under  this  roof, 
or  ever  shall  —  that's  more." 

The  man  glanced  at  the  parish  clerk,  whose  air  of 
consciousness  and  importance  plainly  betokened  him 
to  be  the  person  referred  to,  and  observing  that  he 
had  taken  his  pipe  from  his  lips,  after  a  very  long 
whiff  to  keep  it  alight,  and  was  evidently  about  to 
tell  his  story  without  further  solicitation,  gathered 
his  large  coat  about  him,  and  shrinking  farther  back, 
was  almost  lost  in  the  gloom  of  the  spacious  chim- 
ney-corner, except  when  the  flame,  struggling  from 
under  a  great  fagot  whose  weight  almost  crushed  it 
for  the  time,  shot  upward  with  a  strong  and  sudden 
glare,  and  illumining  his  figure  for  a  moment,  seemed 
afterwards  to  cast  it  into  deeper  obscurity  than 
before. 

By  this  flickering  light,  which  made  the  old  room, 
with   its   heavy  timbers   and   panelled  walls,  look 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  17 

as  if  it  were  built  of  polished  ebony  —  the  wind 
roaring  and  howling  without,  now  rattling  the  latch 
and  creaking  the  hinges  of  the  stout  oaken  door, 
and  now  driving  at  the  casement  as  though  it  would 
beat  it  in  —  by  this  light,  and  under  circiunstances 
so   auspicious,    Solomon  Daisy  began  his  tale  :  — 

"It  was  Mr.  Eeuben  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey's 
elder  brother  —  " 

Here  he  came  to  a  dead  stop,  and  made  so  long  a 
pause  that  even  John  Willet  grew  impatient,  and 
asked  why  he  did  not  proceed. 

"  Cobb,"  said  Solomon  Daisy,  dropping  his  voice, 
and  appealing  to  the  post-office  keeper ;  "  what  day 
of  the  month  is  this  ?  " 

"  The  nineteenth." 

"  Of  March,"  said  the  clerk,  bending  forward, 
"the  nineteenth  of  March;  that's  very  strange." 

In  a  low  voice  they  all  acquiesced,  and  Solomon 
went  on,  — 

"  It  was  Mr.  Reuben  Haredale,  Mr.  Geoffrey's 
elder  brother,  that  twenty-two  years  ago  was  the 
owner  of  the  Warren,  which,  as  Joe  has  said  —  not 
that  you  remember  it,  Joe,  for  a  boy  like  you  can't 
do  that,  but  because  you  have  often  heard  me  say 
so  —  was  then  a  much  larger  and  better  place,  and  a 
much  more  valuable  property  than  it  is  now.  His 
lady  was  lately  dead,  and  he  was  left  with  one  child 

—  the  jVIiss  Haredale  you  have  been  inquiring  about 

—  who  was  then  scarcely  a  year  old." 

Although  the  speaker  addressed  himself  to  the 
man  who  had  shown  so  much  curiosity  about  this 
same  family,  and  made  a  pause  here  as  if  expecting 
some  exclamation  of  surprise  or  encouragement,  the 
latter  made  no  remark,  nor  gave  any  indication  that 

VOL.  I.-2. 


18  BARNABY  RUDGE, 

he  heard  or  was  interested  in  what  was  said. 
Solomon  therefore  turned  to  his  old  companions, 
whose  noses  were  brightly  illuminated  by  the  deep 
red  glow  from  the  bowls  of  their  pipes  :  assured,  by 
long  experience,  of  their  attention,  and  resolved  to 
show  his  sense  of  such  indecent  behavior. 

"  Mr.  Haredale,"  said  Solomon,  turning  his  back 
upon  the  strange  man,  "  left  this  place  when  his  lady 
died,  feeling  it  lonely  like,  and  went  up  to  London, 
where  he  stopped  some  months ;  but  finding  that 
place  as  lonely  as  this  —  as  I  suppose,  and  have 
always  heard  say  —  he  suddenly  came  back  again 
with  his  little  girl  to  the  Warren,  bringing  with  him 
besides,  that  day,  only  two  women  servants,  and  his 
steward  and  a  gardener." 

Mr.  Daisy  stopped  to  take  a  whiff  at  his  pipe, 
which  was  going  out,  and  then  proceeded  —  at  first 
in  a  snuffling  tone,  occasioned  by  keen  enjoyment  of 
the  tobacco  and  strong  pulling  at  the  pipe,  and 
afterwards  with  increasing  distinctness  : 

"  —  Bringing  with  him  two  women  servants,  and 
his  steward  and  a  gardener.  The  rest  stopped' 
behind  up  in  London,  and  were  to  follow  next  day. 
It  happened  that  that  night,  an  old  gentleman  who 
lived  at  Chigwell  Row,  and  had  long  been  poorly, 
deceased,  and  an  order  came  to  me  at  half  after 
twelve  o'clock  at  night  to  go  and  toll  the  passing- 
bell." 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  little  group  of 
listeners,  sufficiently  indicative  of  the  strong  repug- 
nance any  one  of  them  would  have  felt  to  have 
turned  out  at  such  a  time  upon  such  an  errand.  The 
clerk  felt  and  understood  it,  and  pursued  his  theme 
accordingly :  — 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  19 

"  It  was  a  dreary  thing,  especially  as  the  grave- 
digger  was  laid  up  in  his  bed,  from  long  working  in 
a  damp  soil,  and  sitting  down  to  take  his  dinner  on 
cold  tombstones,  and  I  was  consequently  under 
obligations  to  go  alone,  for  it  was  too  late  to  hope  to 
get  any  other  companion.  However,  I  wasn't  unpre- 
pared for  it,  as  the  old  gentleman  had  often  made  it 
a  request  that  the  bell  should  be  tolled  as  soon  as 
possible  after  the  breath  was  out  of  his  body,  and 
he  had  been  expected  to  go  for  some  days.  I  put  as 
good  a  face  upon  it  as  I  could,  and  muffling  myself 
up  (for  it  was  mortal  cold),  started  out  with  a 
lighted  lantern  in  one  hand,  and  the  key  of  the 
church  in  the  other." 

At  this  point  of  the  narrative,  the  dress  of  the 
strange  man  rustled  as  if  he  had  turned  himself  to 
hear  more  distinctly.  Slightly  pointing  over  his 
shoulder,  Solomon  elevated  his  eyebrows,  and 
nodded  a  silent  inquiry  to  Joe  whether  this  was  the 
case.  Joe  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  peered 
into  the  corner,  but  could  make  out  nothing,  and  so 
shook  his  head. 

"  It  was  just  such  a  night  as  this  ;  blowing  a  hur- 
ricane, raining  heavily,  and  very  dark  —  I  often 
think  now,  darker  than  I  ever  saw  it  before  or  since ; 
that  may  be  my  fancy,  but  the  houses  were  all  close 
shut,  and  the  folks  indoors,  and  perhaps  there  is 
only  one  other  man  who  knows  how  dark  it  really 
was.  I  got  into  the  church,  chained  the  door  back 
so  that  it  should  keep  ajar  —  for,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  didn't  like  to  be  shut  in  there  alone  —  and  putting 
my  lantern  on  the  stone  seat  in  the  little  corner 
where  the  bell-rope  is,  sat  down  beside  it  to  trim  the 
candle. 


20  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

"  I  sat  down  to  trim  the  candle,  and  when  I  had 
done  so,  I  could  not  persuade  myself  to  get  up  again 
and  go  about  my  work.  I  don't  know  how  it  was, 
but  I  thought  of  all  the  ghost  stories  I  had  ever 
heard,  even  those  that  I  had  heard  when  I  was  a 
boy  at  school,  and  had  forgotten  long  ago  ;  and  they 
didn't  come  into  my  mind  one  after  another,  but  all 
crowding  at  once  like.  I  recollected  one  story  there 
was  in  the  village,  how  that  on  a  certain  night  in 
the  year  (it  might  be  that  very  night  for  anything  I 
knew)  all  the  dead  people  came  out  of  the  ground, 
and  sat  at  the  heads  of  their  own  graves  till  morn- 
ing. This  made  me  think  how  many  people  I  had 
known  were  buried  between  the  church-door  and  the 
churchyard  gate,  and  what  a  dreadful  thing  it  would 
be  to  have  to  pass  among  them  and  know  them 
again,  so  earthy  and  unlike  themselves.  I  had 
known  all  the  niches  and  arches  in  the  church  from 
a  child ;  still,  I  couldn't  persuade  myself  that  those 
were  their  natural  shadows  which  I  saw  on  the  pave- 
ment, but  felt  sure  there  were  some  ugly  figures 
hiding  among  'em  and  peeping  out.  Thinking  on 
in  this  way,  I  began  to  think  of  the  old  gentleman 
who  was  just  dead,  and  I  could  have  sworn,  as  I 
looked  up  the  dark  chancel,  that  I  saw  him  in  his 
usual  place,  wrapping  his  shroud  about  him,  and 
shivering  as  if  he  felt  it  cold.  All  this  time  I  sat 
listening  and  listening,  and  hardly  dared  to  breathe. 
At  length  I  started  up,  and  took  the  bell-rope  in  my 
hands.  At  that  minute  there  rang  —  not  that  bell, 
for  I  had  hardly  touched  the  rope  —  but  another! 

"  I  heard  the  ringing  of  another  bell,  and  a  deep 
bell  too,  plainly.  It  was  only  for  an  instant,  and 
even  then  the  wind  carried  the  sound  away,  but  I 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  21 

heard  it.  I  listened  for  a  long  time,  but  it  rang  no 
more.  I  had  heard  of  corpse  candles,  and  at  last  I 
persuaded  myself  that  this  must  be  a  corpse  bell 
tolling  of  itself  at  midnight  for  the  dead.  I  tolled 
my  bell  —  how.  or  how  long,  I  don't  know  —  and 
ran  home  to  bed  as  fast  as  I  could  touch  the  ground. 

"  I  was  up  early  next  morning  after  a  restless 
night,  and  told  the  story  to  my  neighbors.  Some 
were  serious,  and  some  made  light  of  it :  I  don't 
think  anybody  believed  it  real.  But,  that  morning, 
Mr.  Keuben  Haredale  was  found  murdered  in  his  bed- 
chamber ;  and  in  his  hand  was  a  piece  of  the  cord 
attached  to  an  alarm  bell  outside  the  roof,  which 
hung  in  his  room,  and  had  been  cut  asunder,  no 
doubt  by  the  murderer,  when  he  seized  it. 

"  That  was  the  bell  I  heard. 

"A  bureau  was  found  opened,  and  a  cash-box, 
which  Mr.  Haredale  had  brought  down  that  day, 
and  was  supposed  to  contain  a  large  sum  of  money, 
was  gone.  The  steward  and  gardener  were  both 
missing  and  both  suspected  for  a  long  time,  but  they 
were  never  found,  though  hunted  far  and  wide. 
And  far  enough  they  might  have  looked  for  poor 
Mr.  Rudge  the  steward,  whose  body  —  scarcely  to 
be  recognized  by  his  clothes  and  the  watch  and  ring 
he  wore  —  was  found,  months  afterwards,  at  the 
bottom  of  a  piece  of  water  in  the  gro\inds,  with  a 
deep  gash  in  the  breast  where  he  had  been  stabbed 
with  a  knife.  He  was  only  partly  dressed;  and 
people  all  agreed  that  he  had  been  sitting  up  read- 
ing in  his  own  room,  where  there  were  many  traces 
of  blood,  and  was  suddenly  fallen  upon  and  killed 
before  his  master. 

"  Everybody  now  knew  that  the   gardener  must 


22  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

be  the  murderer,  and  though  he  has  never  been 
heard  of  from  that  time  to  this,  he  will  be,  mark 
my  words.  The  crime  was  committed  this  day  two 
and  twenty  years  —  on  the  nineteenth  of  March, 
one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty-three.  On 
the  nineteenth  of  March  in  some  year  —  no  matter 
when  —  I  know  it,  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  we  have 
always,  in  some  strange  way  or  other,  been  brought 
back  to  the  subject  on  that  day  ever  since  —  on  the 
nineteenth  of  March  in  some  year,  sooner  or  later, 
that  man  will  be  discovered." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  A  STRANGE  story  ! "  said  the  man  who  had  been 
the  cause  of  the  narration.  "  Stranger  still  if  it 
comes  about  as  you  predict.     Is  that  all  ?  " 

A  question  so  unexpected  nettled  Solomon  Daisy 
not  a  little.  By  dint  of  relating  the  story  very 
often,  and  ornamenting  it  (according  to  village 
report)  with  a  few  flourishes  suggested  by  the  vari- 
ous hearers  from  time  to  time,  he  had  come  by 
degrees  to  tell  it  with  great  effect ;  and  "  Is  that 
all  ?  "  after  the  climax,  was  not  what  he  was  accus- 
tomed to. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  Yes,  that's  all,  sir. 
And  enough,  too,  I  think." 

"  I  think  so  too.  My  horse,  young  man  !  He  is 
but  a  hack  hired  from  a  roadside  posting-house,  but 
he  must  carry  me  to  London  to-night." 

"  To-night !  "  said  Joe. 

"To-night,"  returned  the  other.  "What  do  you 
stare  at  ?  This  tavern  would  seem  to  be  a  house  of 
call  for  all  the  gaping  idlers  of  the  neighborhood  ! " 

At  this  remark,  which  evidently  had  reference  to 
the  scrutiny  he  had  undergone,  as  mentioned  in  the 
foregoing  chapter,  the  eyes  of  John  Willet  and  his 
friends  were  diverted  with  marvellous  rapidity  to 
the  copper  boiler  again,  Kot  so  with  Joe,  who, 
23 


24  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

being  a  mettlesome  fellow,  returned  the  stranger's 
angry  glance  with  a  steady  look,  and  rejoined,  — 

*'  It  is  not  a  very  bold  thing  to  wonder  at  your 
going  on  to-night.  Surely  you  have  been  asked  such 
a  harmless  question  in  an  inn  before,  and  in  better 
weather  than  this.  I  thought  you  mightn't  know 
the  way,  as  you  seem  strange  to  this  part." 

"  The  way  —  "  repeated  the  other  irritably. 

"  Yes.     Do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"I'll — humph!  —  I'll  find  it,"  replied  the  man, 
waving  his  hand  and  turning  on  his  heel.  "  Land- 
lord, take  the  reckoning  here." 

John  Willet  did  as  he  was  desired ;  for  on  that 
point  he  was  seldom  slow,  except  in  the  particulars 
of  giving  change,  and  testing  the  goodness  of  any 
piece  of  coin  that  was  proffered  to  him,  by  the  appli- 
cation of  his  teeth  or  his  tongue,  or  some  other  test, 
or,  in  doubtful  cases,  by  a  long  series  of  tests  termi- 
nating in  its  rejection.  The  guest  then  wrapped  his 
garments  about  him  so  as  to  shelter  himself  as 
effectually  as  he  could  from  the  rough  weather,  and 
without  any  word  or  sign  of  farewell  betook  himself 
to  the  stable-yard.  Here  Joe  (who  had  left  the 
room  on  the  conclusion  of  their  short  dialogue)  was 
protecting  himself  and  the  horse  from  the  rain 
under  the  shelter  of  an  old  pent-house  roof. 

"  He's  pretty  much  of  my  opinion,"  said  Joe,  pat- 
ting the  horse  upon  the  neck.  <<I'll  wager  that 
your  stopping  here  to-night  would  please  him  better 
tlian  it  would  please  me." 

"  He  and  I  are  of  different  opinions,  as  we  have 
been  more  than  once  on  our  way  here,"  was  the 
sliort  reply. 

"  So  I  was  thinking  before  you  came  out,  for  he 
has  felt  your  spurs,  poor  beast," 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  25 

The  stranger  adjusted  his  coat-collar  about  his 
face,  and  made  no  answer. 

"  You'll  know  me  again,  I  see,"  he  said,  marking 
the  young  fellow's  earnest  gaze,  when  he  had  sprung 
into  the  saddle. 

"  The  man's  worth  knowing,  master,  who  travels 
a  road  he  don't  know,  mounted  on  a  jaded  horse, 
and  leaves  good  quarters  to  do  it  on  such  a  night  as 
this." 

"  You  have  sharp  eyes  and  a  sharp  tongue  I  find." 

"  Both  I  hope  by  nature,  but  the  last  grows  rusty 
sometimes  for  want  of  using." 

"  Use  the  first  less  too,  and  keep  their  sharpness 
for  your  sweethearts,  boy,"  said  the  man. 

So  saying,  he  shook  his  hand  from  the  bridle, 
struck  him  roughly  on  the  head  with  the  but-eud  of 
his  whip,  and  galloped  away ;  dashing  through  the 
mud  and  darkness  with  a  headlong  speed,  which  few 
badly  mounted  horsemen  would  have  cared  to  ven- 
ture, even  had  they  been  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  country  ;  and  which,  to  one  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  way  he  rode,  was  attended  at  every 
step  with  great  hazard  and  danger. 

The  roads,  even  within  twelve  miles  of  London, 
were  at  that  time  ill-paved,  seldom  repaired,  and 
very  badly  made.  The  way  this  rider  traversed  had 
been  ploughed  up  by  the  wheels  of  heavy  wagons, 
and  rendered  rotten  by  the  frosts  and  thaws  of  the 
preceding  winter,  or  possibly  of  many  winters. 
Great  holes  and  gaps  had  been  worn  into  the  soil, 
which,  being  now  filled  with  water  from  the  late 
rains,  were  not  easily  distinguishable  even  by  day ; 
and  a  plunge  into  any  one  of  them  might  have 
brought  down  a  surer-footed  horse  than  the  poor 


26  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

beast  now  urged  forward  to  the  utmost  extent  of 
his  powers.  Sharp  flints  and  stones  rolled  from 
under  his  hoofs  continually ;  the  rider  could  scarcely 
see  beyond  the  animal's  head,  or  farther  on  either 
side  than  his  own  arm  would  have  extended.  At 
that  time,  too,  all  the  roads  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  metropolis  were  infested  by  footpads  or  high- 
waymen, and  it  was  a  night,  of  all  others,  in  which 
any  evil-disposed  person  of  this  class  might  have 
pursued  his  unlawful  calling  with  little  fear  of 
detection. 

Still  the  traveller  dashed  forward  at  the  same 
reckless  pace,  regardless  alike  of  the  dirt  and  wet 
which  flew  about  his  head,  the  profound  darkness  of 
the  night,  and  the  probability  of  encountering  some 
desperate  characters  abroad.  At  every  turn  and 
angle,  even  where  a  deviation  from  the  direct  course 
might  have  been  least  expected,  and  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  seen  until  he  was  close  upon  it,  he  guided 
the  bridle  with  an  unerring  hand,  and  kept  the 
middle  of  the  road.  Thus  he  sped  onward,  raising 
himself  in  the  stirrups,  leaning  his  body  forward, 
until  it  almost  touched  the  horse's  neck,  and  flour- 
ishing his  heavy  whip  above  his  head  with  the 
fervor  of  a  madman. 

There  are  times  when,  the  elements  being  in 
unusual  commotion,  those  who  are  bent  on  daring 
enterprises,  or  agitated  by  great  thoughts,  whether 
of  good  or  evil,  feel  a  mysterious  sympathy  with  the 
tumult  of  nature,  and  are  roused  into  corresponding 
violence.  In  the  midst  of  thunder,  lightning,  and 
storm,  many  tremendous  deeds  have  been  committed; 
men,  self-possessed  before,  have  given  a  sudden 
loose  to  passions  they  could  no  longer  control.    The 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  27 

demons  of  wrath  and  despair  have  striven  to  emu- 
late those  who  ride  the  whirlwind  and  direct  the 
storm;  and  man,  lashed  into  madness  with  the 
roaring  winds  and  boiling  Avaters,  has  become  for 
the  time  as  wild  and  merciless  as  the  elements 
themselves. 

Whether  the  traveller  was  possessed  by  thoughts 
which  tlie  fury  of  the  night  had  heated  and  stimu- 
lated into  a  quicker  current,  or  was  merely  impelled 
by  some  strong  motive  to  reach  his  journey's  end, 
on  he  swept,  more  like  a  hunted  phantom  than  a 
man,  nor  checked  his  pace  until,  arriving  at  some 
cross-roads,  one  of  which  led  by  a  longer  route  to 
the  place  whence  he  had  lately  started,  he  bore 
down  so  suddenly  upon  a  vehicle  which  was  coming 
towards  him,  that  in  the  effort  to  avoid  it  he  well- 
nigh  pulled  his  horse  upon  his  haunches,  and  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  thrown. 

"  Yoho ! "  cried  the  voice  of  a  man.  "  What's 
that  ?     Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"  A  friend  ! "  replied  the  traveller. 

"  A  friend  ! "  repeated  the  voice.  "  Who  calls 
himself  a  friend  and  rides  like  that,  abusing 
Heaven's  gifts  in  the  shape  of  horseflesh,  and 
endangering,  not  only  his  own  neck  (which  might 
be  no  great  matter),  but  the  necks  of  other  people  ?  " 

"  You  have  a  lantern  there,  I  see,"  said  the  trav- 
eller, dismounting ;  "  lend  it  me  for  a  moment. 
You  have  wounded  my  horse,  I  think,  with  your 
shaft  or  wheel." 

"  Wounded  him  !  "  cried  the  other  ;  "  if  I  haven't 
killed  him,  it's  no  fault  of  yours.  What  do  you 
mean  by  galloping  along  the  king's  highway  like 
that,  eh  ?  " 


28  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

"Give  me  the  liglit,"  returned  the  traveller, 
snatching  it  from  his  hand,  "and  don't  ask  idle 
questions  of  a  man  who  is  in  no  mood  for  talking.'' 

"  If  you  had  said  you  were  in  no  mood  for  talking 
before,  I  should  perhaps  have  been  in  no  mood  for 
lighting,"  said  the  voice.  "Hows'ever,  as  ifs  the 
poor  horse  that's  damaged,  and  not  you,  one  of  you 
is  welcome  to  the  light  at  all  events  —  but  it's  not 
the  crusty  one." 

The  traveller  returned  no  answer  to  this  speech, 
but  holding  the  light  near  to  his  panting  and  reek- 
ing beast,  examined  him  in  limb  and  carcass.  Mean- 
while, the  other  man  sat  very  composedly  in  his 
vehicle,  which  was  a  kind  of  chaise  with  a  deposi- 
tory for  a  large  bag  of  tools,  and  watched  his  pro- 
ceedings with  a  careful  eye. 

The  looker-on  was  a  round,  red-faced,  sturdy  yeo- 
man, with  a  double  chin,  and  a  voice  husky  with 
good  living,  good  sleeping,  good  humor,  and  good 
health.  He  was  past  the  prime  of  life,  but  Father 
Time  is  not  always  a  hard  parent,  and,  tliough  he 
tarries  for  none  of  his  children,  often  lays  his  hand 
lightly  upon  those  who  have  used  him  well ;  making 
them  old  men  and  women  inexorably  enough,  but 
leaving  their  hearts  and  spirits  young  and  in  full 
vigor.  With  such  people  the  gray  head  is  but  the 
impression  of  the  old  fellow's  hand  in  giving  them 
his  blessing,  and  every  wrinkle  but  a  notch  in  the 
quiet  calendar  of  a  well-spent  life. 

The  person  whom  the  traveller  had  so  abruptly 
encountered  was  of  this  kind :  bluff,  hale,  hearty, 
and  in  a  green  old  age :  at  peace  with  himself,  and 
evidently  disposed  to  be  so  with  all  the  world.  Al- 
though muffled  up  in  divers  coats  and  handkerchiefs 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  29 

—  one  of  which,  passed  over  his  crown,  and  tied  in 
a  convenient  crease  of  his  double  chin,  secured  his 
three-cornered  hat  and  bob-Avig  from  blowing  off  his 
head  —  there  was  no  disguising  his  plump  and  com- 
fortable figure ;  neither  did  certain  dirty  finger-marks 
upon  his  face  give  it  any  other  than  an  odd  and 
comical  expression,  through  which  its  natural  good 
humor  shone  with  undiminished  lustre. 

"He  is  not  hurt,"  said  the  traveller  at  length, 
raising  his  head  and  the  lantern  together. 

"  You  have  found  that  out  at  last,  have  you  ?  " 
rejoined  the  old  man.  "My  eyes  have  seen  more 
light  than  yours,  but  I  wovildn't  change  with  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Mean !  I  could  have  told  you  he  wasn't  hurt 
five  minutes  ago.  Give  me  the  light,  friend ;  ride 
forward  at  a  gentler  pace  ;  and  good-night." 

In  handing  up  the  lantern,  the  man  necessarily 
cast  its  rays  full  on  the  speaker's  face.  Their  eyes 
met  at  the  instant.  He  suddenly  dropped  it  and 
crushed  it  with  his  foot. 

"  Did  you  never  see  a  locksmith  before,  that  you 
start  as  if  you  had  come  upon  a  ghost  ?  "  cried  the 
old  man  in  the  chaise ;  "or  is  this,"  he  added  hastily, 
thrusting  his  hand  into  the  tool  basket  and  drawing 
out  a  hammer,  "  a  scheme  for  robbing  me  ?  I  know 
these  roads,  friend.  When  I  travel  them,  I  carry 
nothing  but  a  few  shillings,  and  not  a  crown's  worth 
of  them.  I  tell  you  plainly,  to  save  us  both  trouble, 
that  there's  nothing  to  be  got  from  ine  but  a  pretty 
stout  arm  considering  my  years,  and  this  tool,  which, 
mayhap  from  long  acquaintance  with,  I  can  use 
pretty  briskly.  You  shall  not  have  it  all  your  own 
way,  I  promise  you,  if  you  play  at  that  game."  With 
these  words  he  stood  upon  the  defensive. 


30  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  I  am  not  what  you  take  me  for,  Gabriel  Varden," 
replied  the  other. 

"  Then  what  and  who  are  you  ? "  returned  the 
locksmith.  "You  know  my  name  it  seems.  Let 
me  know  yours." 

"  I  have  not  gained  the  information  from  any 
confidence  of  yours,  but  from  the  inscription  on 
your  cart,  which  tells  it  to  all  the  town,"  replied 
the  traveller. 

"  You  have  better  eyes  for  that  than  you  had  for 
your  horse  then,"  said  Varden,  descending  nimbly 
from  his  chaise.  "Who  are  you  ?  Let  me  see  your 
face." 

"While  the  locksmith  alighted,  the  traveller  had 
regained  his  saddle,  from  which  he  now  confronted 
the  old  man,  who,  moving  as  the  horse  moved  in  chaf- 
ing under  the  tightened  rein,  kept  close  beside  him. 

"  Let  me  see  your  face,  I  say." 

"  Stand  off !  " 

"No  masquerading  tricks,"  said  the  locksmith, 
"  and  tales  at  the  club  to-morrow  how  Gabriel  Var- 
den was  frightened  by  a  surly  voice  and  a  dark 
night.     Stand  —  let  me  see  your  face  " 

Finding  that  further  resistance  would  only  involve 
him  in  a  personal  struggle  with  an  antagonist  by  no 
means  to  be  despised,  the  traveller  threw  back  his 
coat,  and  stooping  down,  looked  steadily  at  the  lock- 
smith. 

Perhaps  two  men  more  powerfully  contrasted 
never  opposed  each  other  face  to  face.  The  ruddy 
features  of  the  locksmith  so  set  off  and  heightened 
the  excessive  paleness  of  the  man  on  horseback,  that 
he  looked  like  a  bloodless  ghost,  while  the  moisture, 
which  hard  riding  had  brought  out  upon  his  skin, 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  31 

hung  there  in  dark  and  heavy  drops,  like  dews  of 
agony  and  death.  The  countenance  of  the  old  lock- 
smith was  lighted  up  with  the  smile  of  one  expect- 
ing to  detect  in  this  unpromising  stranger  some 
latent  roguery  of  eye  or  lip,  which  should  reveal  a 
familiar  person  in  that  arch  disguise,  and  spoil  his 
jest.  The  face  of  the  other,  sullen  and  fierce,  but 
shrinking  too,  was  that  of  a  man  who  stood  at  bay ; 
while  his  firmly  closed  jaws,  his  puckered  mouth, 
and,  more  than  all,  a  certain  stealthy  motion  of  the 
hand  within  his  breast,  seemed  to  announce  a  des- 
perate purpose  very  foreign  to  acting,  or  child's 
play. 

Thus  they  regarded  each  other  for  some  time  in 
silence. 

"  Humph  ! "  he  said,  when  he  had  scanned  his 
features  ;  "  I  don't  know  you." 

"  Don't  desire  to  ?  "  returned  the  other,  muffling 
himself  as  before. 

<'I  don't,"  said  Gabriel;  "to  be  plain  with  you, 
friend,  you  don't  carry  in  your  countenance  a  letter 
of  recommendation." 

"It's  not  my  wish,"  said  the  traveller.  "My 
humor  is  to  be  avoided." 

"Well,"  said  the  locksmith  bluntly,  "I  think 
you'll  have  your  humor." 

"I  will  at  any  cost,"  rejoined  the  traveller.  "In 
proof  of  it,  lay  this  to  heart  —  that  you  were  never 
in  such  peril  of  your  life  as  you  have  been  within 
these  few  moments :  when  you  are  within  five  min- 
utes of  breathing  your  last,  you  will  not  be  nearer 
death  than  you  have  been  to-night ! " 

"  Ay ! "  said  the  sturdy  locksmith. 

"  Ay  !  and  a  violent  death." 


32  BAr.NABY  EUDGE. 

"  From  whose  hand  ?  " 

"  From  mine,"  replied  the  traveller. 

With  that  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  rode 
away;  at  first  splashing  heavily  through  the  mire 
at  a  smart  trot,  but  gradually  increasing  in  speed 
until  the  last  sound  of  his  horse's  hoofs  died  away 
upon  the  wind ;  when  he  was  again  hurrj-ing  on  at 
the  same  furious  gallop,  which  had  been  his  pace 
when  the  locksmith  first  encountered  him. 

Gabriel  Varden  remained  standing  in  the  road 
with  the  broken  lantern  in  his  hand,  listening  in 
stupefied  silence  until  no  sound  reached  his  ear  but 
the  moaning  of  the  wind  and  the  fast-falling  rain ; 
when  he  struck  himself  one  or  two  smart  blows  in 
the  breast  by  way  of  rousing  himself,  and  broke  into 
an  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"What  in  the  name  of  wonder  can  this  fellow  be  ? 
a  madman  ?  a  highwayman  ?  a  cut-throat  ?  If  he 
had  not  scoured  off  so  fast,  we'd  have  seen  who  was 
in  most  danger,  he  or  I.  I  never  nearer  death  than 
I  have  been  to-night !  I  hope  I  may  be  no  nearer 
to  it  for  a  score  of  years  to  come  —  if  so,  I'll  be  con- 
tent to  be  no  farther  from  it.  My  stars  !  —  a  pretty 
brag  this  to  a  stout  man  —  pooh,  pooh  ! " 

Gabriel  resumed  his  seat,  and  looked  wistfully  up 
the  road  by  which  the  traveller  had  come ;  murmur- 
ing in  a  half-whisper,  — 

"The  Maypole  —  two  miles  to  the  Maypole.  I 
came  the  other  road  from  the  Warren  after  a  long 
day's  work  at  locks  and  bells,  on  purpose  that  I 
should  not  come  by  the  Maypole,  and  break  my 
promise  to  Martha  by  looking  in  —  there's  resolu- 
tion !  It  would  be  dangerous  to  go  on  to  London 
without  a  light ;  and  it's  four  miles,  and  a  good  half- 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  33 

mile  besides,  to  the  Half-way  House ;  and  between 
this  and  that  is  the  very  place  where  one  needs  a 
light  most.  Two  miles  to  the  Maypole !  I  told 
Martha  I  wouldn't ;  I  said  I  wouldn't,  and  I  didn't 
—  there's  resolution  ! " 

Repeating  these  two  last  words  very  often,  as  if 
to  compensate  for  the  little  resolution  he  was  going 
to  show  by  piquing  himself  on  the  great  resolution 
he  had  shown,  Gabriel  Varden  quietly  turned  back, 
determining  to  get  a  light  at  the  Maypole,  and  to 
take  nothing  but  a  light. 

When  he  got  to  the  Maypole,  however,  and  Joe, 
responding  to  his  well-known  hail,  came  running 
out  to  the  horse's  head,  leaving  the  door  open 
behind  him,  and  disclosing  a  delicious  perspective 
of  warmth  and  brightness  —  when  the  ruddy  gleam 
of  the  fire,  streaming  through  the  old  red  curtains 
of  the  common  room,  seemed  to  bring  with  it,  as 
part  of  itself,  a  pleasant  hum  of  voices,  and  a  fra- 
grant odor  of  steaming  grog  and  rare  tobacco,  all 
steeped  as  it  were  in  the  cheerful  glow  —  when  the 
shadows,  flitting  across  the  curtain,  showed  that 
those  inside  had  risen  from  their  snug  seats,  and 
were  making  room  in  the  snuggest  corner  (how  well 
he  knew  that  corner  !)  for  the  honest  locksmith, 
and  a  broad  glare,  suddenly  streaming  up,  bespoke 
the  goodness  of  the  crackling  log  from  which  a  bril- 
liant train  of  sparks  was  doubtless  at  that  moment 
whirling  up  the  chimney  in  honor  of  his  coming  — 
when,  superadded  to  these  enticements,  there  stole 
upon  him  from  the  distant  kitchen  a  gentle  sound 
of  frying,  with  a  musical  clatter  of  plates  and 
dishes,  and  a  savory  smell  that  made  even  the  bois- 
terous wind  a  perfume  —  Gabriel  felt  his  firmness 

VOL.  I. -3. 


34  BARNABY  KTJDGE. 

oozing  rapidly  away.  He  tried  to  look  stoically  at 
the  tavern,  but  his  features  would  relax  into  a  look 
of  fondness.  He  turned  his  head  the  other  way, 
and  the  cold  black  country  seemed  to  frown  him  off, 
and  drive  him  for  a  refuge  into  its  hospitable  arms. 

''  The  merciful  man,  Joe,"  said  the  locksmith,  "  is 
merciful  to  his  beast.  I'll  get  out  for  a  little 
while." 

And  how  natural  it  was  to  get  out !  And  how 
unnatural  it  seemed  for  a  sober  man  to  be  plodding 
wearily  along  through  miry  roads,  encountering  the 
rude  buffets  of  the  wind  and  pelting  of  the  rain, 
when  there  was  a  clean  floor  covered  with  crisp 
white  sand,  a  well-swept  hearth,  a  blazing  fire,  a 
table  decorated  with  white  cloth,  bright  pewter 
flagons,  and  other  tempting  preparations  for  a  well- 
cooked  meal  —  when  there  were  these  things,  and 
company  disposed  to  make  the  most  of  them,  all 
ready  to  his  hand,  and  entreating  him  to  enjoy- 
ment ! 


CHAPTER   III. 

Such  were  the  locksmith's  thoughts  when  first 
seated  in  the  snug  corner,  and  slowly  recovering 
from  a  pleasant  defect  of  vision  —  pleasant,  because 
occasioned  by  the  wind  blowing  in  his  eyes  —  which 
made  it  a  matter  of  sound  policy  and  duty  to  him- 
self that  he  should  take  refuge  from  the  weather, 
and  tempted  him,  for  the  same  reason,  to  aggravate 
a  slight  cough,  and  declare  he  felt  but  poorly.  Such 
were  still  his  thoughts  more  than  a  full  hour  after- 
wards, when,  supper  over,  he  still  sat  with  shining 
jovial  face  in  the  same  warm  nook,  listening  to  the 
cricket-like  chirrup  of  little  Solomon  Daisy,  and 
bearing  no  unimportant  or  slightly  respected  part 
in  the  social  gossip  round  the  Maypole  fire. 

"  I  wish  he  may  be  an  honest  man,  that's  all," 
said  Solomon,  winding  up  a  variety  of  speculations 
relative  to  the  stranger,  concerning  whom  Gabriel 
had  compared  notes  with  the  company,  and  so  raised 
a  grave  discussion ;  "  I  wish  he  may  be  an  honest 
man." 

"So  we  all  do,  I  suppose,  don't  we  ?"  observed 
the  locksmith, 

"I  don't,"  said  Joe. 

"  No ! "  cried  Gabriel. 

"  No.     He  struck  me  with  his  whip,  the  coward, 
35 


36  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

when  he  was  mounted  and  I  afoot,  and  I  should  be 
better  pleased  that  he  turned  out  what  I  think 
him." 

"  And  what  may  that  be,  Joe  ?  " 

"Ko  good,  Mr.  Varden.  You  may  shake  your 
head,  father,  but  I  say  no  good,  and  will  say  no 
good,  and  I  would  say  no  good  a  hundred  times 
over,  if  that  would  bring  him  back  to  have  the 
drubbing  he  deserves." 

'•  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  said  John  Willet. 

"I  won't,  father.  It's  all  along  of  you  that  he 
ventured  to  do  what  he  did.  Seeing  me  treated  like 
a  cliild,  and  put  down  like  a  fool,  he  plucks  up  a 
heart,  and  has  a  fling  at  a  fellow  that  he  thinks  — 
and  may  well  think  too  —  hasn't  a  grain  of  spirit. 
But  he's  mistaken,  as  I'll  show  him,  and  as  I'll 
show  all  of  you  before  long." 

"  Does  the  boy  know  what  he's  a  saying  of  ? " 
cried  the  astonished  John  Willet. 

'■'■  Father,"  returned  Joe,  "  I  know  what  I  say  and 
mean  well  —  better  than  you  do  when  you  hear  me. 
I  can  bear  with  you,  but  I  cannot  bear  the  contempt 
that  your  treating  me  in  the  way  you  do  brings 
upon  me  from  others  every  day.  Look  at  other 
young  men  of  my  age.  Have  they  no  liberty,  no 
will,  no  right  to  speak  ?  Are  they  obliged  to  sit 
mum-chance,  and  to  be  ordered  about  till  they  are  the 
laughing-stock  of  young  and  old  ?  I  am  a  by-word 
all  over  Chigwell,  and  I  say  —  and  it's  fairer  my 
saying  so  now  than  waiting  till  you  are  dead,  and 
I  have  got  your  money  —  I  say,  that  before  long  I 
shall  be  driven  to  break  such  bounds,  and  that  when  I 
do,  it  won't  be  me  that  you'll  have  to  blame,  but 
your  own  self,  and  no  other." 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  37 

John  Willet  was  so  amazed  by  the  exasperation 
and  boldness  of  his  hopeful  son,  that  he  sat  as  one 
bewildered,  staring  in  a  ludicrous  manner  at  the 
boiler,  and  endeavoring,  but  quite  ineffectually,  to 
collect  his  tardy  thoughts,  and  invent  an  answer. 
The  guests,  scarcely  less  disturbed,  were  equally  at 
a  loss  ;  and  at  length,  with  a  variety  of  muttered, 
half-expressed  condolences  and  pieces  of  advice, 
rose  to  depart ;  being  at  the  same  time  slightly 
muddled  with  liquor. 

The  honest  locksmith  alone  addressed  a  few 
words  of  coherent  and  sensible  advice  to  both 
parties,  urging  John  Willet  to  remember  that  Joe 
was  nearly  arrived  at  man's  estate,  and  should  not 
be  ruled  with  too  tight  a  hand,  and  exhorting  Joe 
himself  to  bear  with  his  father's  caprices,  and 
rather  endeavor  to  turn  them  aside  by  temperate 
remonstrance  than  by  ill-timed  rebellion.  This 
advice  was  received  as  such  advice  usually  is. 
On  John  Willet  it  made  almost  as  much  impres- 
sion as  on  the  sign  outside  the  door,  while  Joe, 
who  took  it  in  the  best  part,  avowed  himself 
more  obliged  than  he  could  well  express,  but 
politely  intimated  his  intention,  nevertheless,  of 
taking  his  own  course  uninfluenced  by  anybody. 

"You  have  always  been  a  very  good  friend  to 
me,  Mr.  Varden,"  he  said,  as  they  stood  without  in 
the  porch,  and  the  locksmith  was  equipping  himself 
for  his  journey  home ;  "  I  take  it  very  kind  of  you 
to  say  all  this,  but  the  time's  nearly  come  when  the 
Maypole  and  I  must  part  company." 

"Roving  stones  gather  no  moss,  Joe,"  said  Ga- 
briel. 

"Nor  milestones  much,"  replied  Joe.     "I'm  lit- 


38  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

tie  better  than  one  here,  and  see  as  much  of  the 
world." 

"  Then,  what  would  you  do,  Joe  ?  "  pursued  the 
locksmith,  stroking  his  chin  reflectively.  "What 
could  you  be  ?     Where  could  you  go,  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  must  trust  to  chance,  Mr.  Varden." 

"  A  bad  thing  to  trust  to,  Joe.  I  don't  like  it.  I 
always  tell  my  girl,  when  we  talk  about  a  husband 
for  her,  never  to  trust  to  chance,  but  to  make  sure 
beforehand  that  she  has  a  good  man  and  true,  and 
then  chance  will  neither  make  her  nor  break  her. 
What  are  you  fidgeting  about  there,  Joe  ?  Nothing 
gone  in  the  harness,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  Joe  —  finding,  however,  something 
very  engrossing  to  do  in  the  way  of  strapping  and 
buckling.     "  Miss  Dolly  quite  well  ?  " 

"Hearty,  thankye.  She  looks  pretty  enough  to 
be  well,  and  good  too." 

"  She's  always  both,  sir  —  " 

"  So  she  is,  thank  God  !  " 

"I  hope,"  said  Joe  after  some  hesitation,  "that 
you  won't  tell  this  story  against  me  —  this  of  my 
having  been  beat  like  the  boy  they'd  make  of  me  — 
at  all  events  till  I  have  met  this  man  again  and 
settled  the  account.     It'll  be  a  better  story  then." 

"  Why,  who  should  I  tell  it  to  ?  "  returned  Gabriel. 
"They  know  it  here,  and  I'm  not  likely  to  come 
across  anybody  else  who  would  care  about  it." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  said  the  young  fellow  with 
a  sigh.     "  I  quite  forgot  that.     Yes,  that's  true  !  " 

So  saying,  he  raised  his  face,  which  was  very  red, 
—  no  doubt  from  the  exertion  of  strapping  and  buck- 
ling as  aforesaid,  —  and  giving  the  reins  to  the  old 
man,  who  had  by  this  time  taken  his  seat,  sighed 
again  and  bade  him  good-night. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  39 

"  Good-night ! "  cried  Gabriel.  ''  Now  think  bet- 
ter of  what  we  have  just  been  speaking  of,  and 
don't  be  rash,  there's  a  good  fellow !  I  have  an 
interest  in  you,  and  wouldn't  have  you  cast  yourself 
away.     Good-night ! " 

Returning  his  cheery  farewell  with  cordial  good 
will,  Joe  Willet  lingered  until  the  sound  of  wheels 
ceased  to  vibrate  in  his  ears,  and  then,  shaking  his 
head  mournfully,  re-entered  the  house. 

Gabriel  Varden  went  his  way  towards  London, 
thinking  of  a  great  many  things,  and  most  of  all  of 
flaming  terms  in  which  to  relate  his  adventure,  and 
so  account  satisfactorily  to  Mrs.  Varden  for  visiting 
the  Maypole,  despite  certain  solemn  covenants  be- 
tween himself  and  that  lady.  Thinking  begets,  not 
only  thought,  but  drowsiness  occasionally,  and  the 
more  the  locksmith  thought,  the  more  sleepy  he 
became. 

A  man  may  be  very  sober  —  or  at  least  firmly  set 
upon  his  legs  on  that  neutral  ground  which  lies 
between  the  confines  of  perfect  sobriety  and  slight 
tipsiness  —  and  yet  feel  a  strong  tendency  to  mingle 
up  present  circumstances  with  others  which  have  no 
manner  of  connection  with  them ;  to  confound  all 
consideration  of  persons,  things,  times,  and  places ; 
and  to  jumble  his  disjointed  thoughts  together  in  a 
kind  of  mental  kaleidoscope,  producing  combina- 
tions as  unexpected  as  they  are  transitory.  This 
was  Gabriel  Varden's  state,  as  nodding  in  his  dog 
sleep,  and  leaving  his  horse  to  pursue  a  road  with 
which  he  was  well  acquainted,  he  got  over  the 
ground  unconsciously,  and  drew  nearer  and  nearer 
home.  He  had  roused  himself  once,  when  the 
horse  stopped  until  the  turnpike  gate  was  opened, 


40  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

and  had  cried  a  lusty  "  Good-night ! "  to  the  toll- 
keeper;  but  then  he  awoke  out  of  a  dream  about 
picking  a  lock  in  the  stomach  of  the  Great  Mogul, 
and  even  when  he  did  wake,  mixed  up  the  turnpike 
man  with  his  mother-in-law,  who  had  been  dead 
twenty  years.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  that 
he  soon  relapsed,  and  jogged  heavily  along,  quite 
insensible  to  his  progress. 

And  now  he  approached  the  great  city,  which  lay 
outstretched  before  him  like  a  dark  shadow  on  the 
ground,  reddening  the  sluggish  air  with  a  deep  dull 
light,  that  told  of  labyrinths  of  public  ways  and 
shops,  and  swarms  of  busy  people.  Approaching 
nearer  and  nearer  yet,  this  halo  began  to  fade,  and 
the  causes  which  produced  it  slowly  to  develop  them- 
selves. Long  lines  of  poorly  lighted  streets  might 
be  faintly  traced,  with  here  and  there  a  lighter  spot, 
where  lamps  were  clustered  about  a  square  or  mar- 
ket, or  round  some  great  building;  after  a  time 
these  grew  more  distinct,  and  the  lamps  themselves 
were  visible ;  slight  yellow  specks,  that  seemed  to 
be  rapidly  snuffed  out  one  by  one,  as  intervening 
obstacles  hid  them  from  the  sight.  Then  sounds 
arose  —  the  striking  of  church  clocks,  the  distant 
bark  of  dogs,  the  hum  of  traffic  in  the  streets ;  then, 
outlines  might  be  traced  —  tall  steeples  looming  in 
the  air,  and  piles  of  unequal  roofs  oppressed  by 
chimneys ;  then,  the  noise  swelled  into  a  louder 
sound,  and  forms  grew  more  distinct  and  numerovfs 
still,  and  London  —  visible  in  the  darkness  by  its 
own  faint  light,  and  not  by  that  of  heaven  —  was  at 
hand. 

Tlie  locksmith,  however,  all  unconscious  of  its 
near   vicinity,   still   jogged  on,   half   sleeping,   and 


BARKABY   BUDGE.  41 

half  waking,  when  a  loud  cry,  at  no  great  distance 
ahead,  roused  him  with  a  start. 

For  a  moment  or  two  he  looked  about  him  like  a 
man  who  had  been  transported  to  some  strange 
country  in  his  sleep,  but  soon  recognized  familiar 
objects,  rubbed  his  eyes  lazily,  and  might  have 
relapsed  again,  but  that  the  cry  was  repeated  — 
not  once  or  twice  or  thrice,  but  many  times,  and 
each  time,  if  possible,  with  increased  vehemence. 
Thoroughly  aroused,  Gabriel,  who  was  a  bold  man 
and  not  easily  daunted,  made  straight  to  the  spot, 
urging  on  his  stout  little  horse  as  if  for  life  or 
death. 

The  matter  indeed  looked  sufficiently  serious,  for, 
coming  to  the  place  whence  the  cries  had  proceeded, 
he  descried  the  figure  of  a  man  extended  in  an  ap- 
parently lifeless  state  upon  the  pathway,  and,  hover- 
ing round  him,  another  person  with  a  torch  in  his 
hand,  which  he  waved  in  the  air  with  a  wild  im- 
patience, redoubling  meanwhile  those  cries  for  help 
which  had  brought  the  locksmith  to  the  spot. 

"  What's  here  to  do  ?  "  said  the  old  man,  alight- 
ing.    ''  How's  this  —  what  —  Barnaby  ?  " 

The  bearer  of  the  torch  shook  his  long  loose  hair 
back  from  his  eyes,  and  thrusting  his  face  eagerly 
into  that  of  the  locksmith,  fixed  upon  him  a  look 
which  told  his  history  at  once. 

"  You  know  me,  Barnaby  ?  "  said  Varden. 

He  nodded  —  not  once  or  twice,  but  a  score  of 
times,  and  that  with  a  fantastic  exaggeration  which 
would  have  kept  his  head  in  motion  for  an  hour, 
but  that  the  locksmith  held  up  his  finger,  and  fixing 
his  eye  sternly  upon  him,  caused  him  to  desist ;  then 
pointed  to  the  body  with  an  inquiring  look. 


42  BAENABY   EUDGE. 

"There's  blood  upon  him,"  said  Barnaby  with  a 
shudder.     "  It  makes  me  sick." 

"  How  came  it  there  ?  "  demanded  Yarden. 

"  Steel,  steel,  steel ! "  he  replied  fiercely,  imitating 
with  his  hand  the  thrust  of  a  sword. 

"  Is  he  robbed  ?  "  said  the  locksmith. 

Barnaby  caught  him  by  the  arm,  and  nodded 
"  Yes ; "  then  pointed  towards  the  city. 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  old  man,  bending  over  the  body, 
and  looking  round  as  he  spoke  into  Barnaby's  pale 
face,  strangely  lighted  up  by  something  which  was 
not  intellect.  "  The  robber  made  off  that  way,  did 
he  ?  "Well,  well,  never  mind  that  just  now.  Hold 
your  torch  this  way  —  a  little  further  off  —  so. 
Xow  stand  quiet,  while  I  try  to  see  what  harm  is 
done." 

With  these  words,  he  applied  himself  to  a  closer 
examination  of  the  prostrate  form,  while  Barnaby, 
holding  the  torch  as  he  had  been  directed,  looked  on 
in  silence,  fascinated  by  interest  or  curiosity,  but 
repelled,  nevertheless,  by  some  strong  and  secret 
horror  which  convulsed  him  in  every  nerve. 

As  he  stood,  at  that  moment,  half  shrinking  back 
and  half  bending  forward,  both  his  face  and  figiire 
were  full  in  the  strong  glare  of  the  link,  and  as  dis- 
tinctly revealed  as  though  it  had  been  broad  day. 
He  was  about  three  and  twenty  years  old,  and  though 
rather  spare,  of  a  fair  height  and  strong  make.  His 
hair,  of  which  he  had  great  profusion,  was  red,  and 
hanging  in  disorder  about  his  face  and  shoulders, 
gave  to  his  restless  looks  an  expression  quite  un- 
earthly—  enhanced  by  the  paleness  of  his  com- 
plexion, and  the  glassy  lustre  of  his  large  protruding 
eyes.     Startling  as  his  aspect  was,  the  features  were 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  43 

good,  and  there  was  something  even  plaintive  in  his 
wan  and  haggard  aspect.  But  the  absence  of  the 
soul  is  far  more  terrible  in  a  living  man  than  in  a 
dead  one  ;  and  in  this  unfortunate  being  its  noblest 
powers  were  wanting. 

His  dress  was  of  green,  clumsily  trimmed  here 
and  there  —  apparently  by  his  own  hands  —  with 
gaudy  lace ;  brightest  where  the  cloth  was  most 
worn  and  soiled,  and  poorest  where  it  was  at  the 
best.  A  pair  of  tawdry  rufiles  dangled  at  his  wrists, 
while  his  throat  was  nearly  bare.  He  had  orna- 
mented his  hat  with  a  cluster  of  peacock's  feathers, 
but  they  were  limp  and  broken,  and  now  trailed 
negligently  down  his  back.  Girt  to  his  side  was  the 
steel  hilt  of  an  old  sword  without  blade  or  scabbard  ; 
and  some  party-colored  ends  of  ribbons  and  poor 
glass  toys  completed  the  ornamental  portion  of  his 
attire.  The  fluttered  and  confused  disposition  of 
all  the  motley  scraps  that  formed  his  dress  bespoke, 
in  a  scarcely  less  degree  than  his  eager  and  unsettled 
manner,  the  disorder  of  his  mind,  and,  by  a  grotesque 
contrast,  set  off  and  heightened  the  more  impressive 
wildness  of  his  face. 

"  Barnaby,"  said  the  locksmith,  after  a  hasty 
but  careful  inspection,  "this  man  is  not  dead, 
but  he  has  a  wound  in  his  side,  and  is  in  a  faint- 
ing fit." 

"  I  know  him,  I  know  him  !  "  cried  Barnaby,  clap- 
ping his  hands. 

"  Know  him  ?  "  repeated  the  locksmith. 

"Hush!  "  said  Barnaby,  laying  his  fingers  on  his 
lips.  "He  went  out  to-day  a-wooing.  I  wouldn't 
for  a  light  guinea  that  he  should  never  go  a-wooing 
again,  for,  if  he  did,  some   eyes  would   grow  dim 


44  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

that  are  now  as  bright  as  —  See,  when  I  talk  of 
eyes,  the  stars  come  out !  Whose  eyes  are  they  ? 
If  they  are  angels'  eyes,  why  do  they  look  clown 
here  and  see  good  men  hurt,  and  only  wink  and 
sparkle  all  the  night  ?  " 

"Now  Heaven  help  this  silly  fellow,"  murmured 
the  perplexed  locksmith,  "  can  he  know  this  gentle- 
man ?  His  mother's  house  is  not  far  off ;  I  had 
better  see  if  she  can  tell  me  who  he  is.  Barnaby, 
my  man,  help  me  to  put  him  in  the  chaise,  and  we'll 
ride  home  together." 

"  I  can't  touch  him  ! "  cried  the  idiot,  falling 
back,  and  shuddering  as  with  a  strong  spasm  ;  "  he's 
bloody ! " 

"It's  in  his  nature  I  know,"  muttered  the  lock- 
smith, "  it's  cruel  to  ask  him,  but  I  must  have  help. 
Barnaby  —  good  Barnaby  —  dear  Barnaby  —  if  you 
know  this  gentleman,  for  the  sake  of  his  life  and 
everybody's  life  that  loves  him,  help  me  to  raise  him 
and  lay  him  down." 

"  Cover  him  then,  wrap  him  close  —  don't  let  me 
see  it  —  smell  it  —  hear  the  word.  Don't  speak  the 
word  —  don't !  " 

"No,  no,  I'll  not.  There,  you  see  he's  covered 
now.     Gently.     "Well  done,  well  done  ! " 

They  placed  him  in  the  carriage  with  great  ease, 
for  Barnaby  was  strong  and  active,  but  all  the  time 
they  v/ere  so  occupied  he  shivered  from  head  to 
foot,  and  evidently  experienced  an  ecstasy  of  ter- 
ror. 

This  accomplished,  and  the  wounded  man  being 
covered  with  Varden's  own  great-coat,  which  he 
took  off  for  the  purpose,  they  proceeded  onward 
at  a  brisk  pace :  Barnaby  gayly  counting  the  stars 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  45 

upon  his  fingers,  and  Gabriel  inwardly  congrat- 
ulating himself  upon  having  an  adventure  now 
which  would  silence  Mrs.  Varden  on  the  subject  of 
the  Maypole  for  that  night,  or  there  was  no  faith 
in  woman. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

In  the  venerable  suburb  —  it  was  a  suburb  once  — 
of  Clerkenwell,  towards  that  part  of  its  confines 
which  is  nearest  to  the  Charter  House,  and  in  one 
of  those  cool,  shady  streets,  of  which  a  few,  widely 
scattered  and  dispersed,  yet  remain  in  such  old  parts 
of  the  metropolis,  —  each  tenement  quietly  vegetat- 
ing like  an  ancient  citizen  who  long  ago  retired  from 
business,  and  dozing  on  in  its  infirmity  until  in 
course  of  time  it  tumbles  down,  and  is  replaced  by 
some  extravagant  young  heir,  flaunting  in  stucco 
and  ornamental  work,  and  all  the  vanities  of  modern 
days,  —  in  this  quarter,  and  in  a  street  of  this 
description,  the  business  of  the  present  chapter 
lies. 

At  the  time  of  which  it  treats,  though  only  six 
and  sixty  years  ago,  a  very  large  part  of  what  is 
London  now  had  no  existence.  Even  in  the  brains 
of  the  wildest  speculators,  there  had  sprung  up  no 
long  rows  of  streets  connecting  Highgate  with 
Whitechapel,  no  assemblages  of  palaces  in  the 
swampy  levels,  nor  little  cities  in  the  open  fields. 
Although  this  part  of  the  town  was  then,  as  now, 
parcelled  out  in  streets,  and  plentifully  peopled,  it 
Avore  a  different  aspect.  There  were  gardens  to 
many  of  the  houses,  and  trees  by  the  pavement  side ; 
46 


BAPwXABY  EUDGE.  47 

with  an  air  of  freshness  breathing  up  and  clown, 
which  in  these  days  would  be  sought  in  vain. 
Fields  were  nigh  at  hand,  through  which  the  New 
Eiver  took  its  winding  course,  and  where  there  was 
merry  haymaking  in  the  summer-time.  ISTature  was 
not  so  far  removed,  or  hard  to  get  at,  as  in  these 
days ;  and  although  there  were  busy  trades  in 
Clerkenwell,  and  working  jewellers  by  scores,  it  was 
a  purer  place,  with  farmhouses  nearer  to  it  than 
many  modern  Londoners  would  readily  believe,  and 
lovers'  walks  at  no  great  distance,  which  turned  into 
squalid  courts  long  before  the  lovers  of  this  age 
were  born,  or,  as  the  phrase  goes,  thought  of. 

In  one  of  these  streets,  the  cleanest  of  them  all, 
and  on  the  shady  side  of  the  way  —  for  good  house- 
wives know  that  sunlight  damages  their  cherished 
furniture,  and  so  choose  the  shade  rather  than  its 
intrusive  glare  —  there  stood  the  house  with  which 
we  have  to  deal.  It  was  a  modest  building,  not 
very  straight,  not  large,  not  tall ;  not  bold-faced, 
with  great  staring  windows,  but  a  shy  blinking  house, 
with  a  conical  roof  going  up  into  a  peak  over  its 
garret  window  of  four  small  panes  of  glass,  like  a 
cocked  hat  on  the  head  of  an  elderly  gentleman  with 
one  eye.  It  was  not  built  of  brick  or  lofty  stone, 
but  of  wood  and  plaster ;  it  was  not  planned  with  a 
dull  and  wearisome  regard  to  regularity,  for  no  one 
window  matched  the  other,  or  seemed  to  have  the 
slightest  reference  to  anything  besides  itself. 

The  shop  —  for  it  had  a  shop  —  was,  with  refer- 
ence to  the  first  floor,  where  shops  usually  are ;  and 
there  all  resemblance  between  it  and  any  other 
shop  stopped  short  and  ceased.  People  who  went 
in  and  out  didn't  go  up  a  flight  of  steps  to  it,  or 


48  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

walk  easily  in  upon  a  level  with  the  street,  but 
dived  down  three  steep  stairs,  as  into  a  cellar.  Its 
floor  was  paved  with  stone  and  brick,  as  that  of  any- 
other  cellar  might  be  ;  and,  in  lieu  of  window  framed 
and  glazed,  it  had  a  great  black  wooden  flap  or  shut- 
ter, nearly  breast  high  from  the  ground,  which 
turned  back  in  the  daytime,  admitting  as  much  cold 
air  as  light,  and  very  often  more.  Behind  this  shop 
was  a  wainscoted  parlor,  looking  first  into  a  paved 
yard,  and  beyond  that  again  into  a  little  terrace 
garden  raised  some  feet  above  it.  Any  stranger 
would  have  supposed  that  this  wainscoted  parlor, 
saving  for  the  door  of  communication  by  which 
he  had  entered,  was  cut  off  and  detached  from  all 
the  world ;  and  indeed  most  strangers,  on  their  first 
entrance,  were  observed  to  grow  extremely  thought- 
ful, as  weighing  and  pondering  in  their  minds 
whether  the  upper  rooms  were  only  approachable  by 
ladders  from  without ;  never  suspecting  that  two  of 
the  most  unassuming  and  unlikely  doors  in  exist- 
ence, which  the  most  ingenious  mechanician  on 
earth  must  of  necessity  have  supposed  to  be  the 
doors  of  closets,  opened  out  of  this  room  —  each 
without  the  smallest  preparation,  or  so  much  as  a 
quarter  of  an  inch  of  passage  —  upon  two  dark 
winding  flights  of  stairs,  the  one  upward,  the  other 
downward,  which  were  the  sole  means  of  communi- 
cation between  that  chamber  and  the  other  portions 
of  the  house. 

"With  all  these  oddities,  there  was  not  a  neater, 
more  scrupulously  tidy,  or  more  punctiliously  or- 
dered house  in  Clerkenwell,  in  London,  in  all  Eng- 
land. There  were  not  cleaner  windows,  or  whiter 
floors,  or  brighter   stoves,  or  more  highly  shining 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  49 

articles  of  furniture  in  old  mahogany ;  there  was  not 
more  rubbing,  scrubbing,  burnishing,  and  polishing 
in  the  whole  street  put  together.  'Nov  was  this  ex- 
cellence attained  without  some  cost  and  trouble,  and 
great  expenditure  of  voice,  as  the  neighbors  were 
frequently  reminded  when  the  good  lady  of  the 
house  overlooked  and  assisted  in  its  being  put  to 
rights  on  cleaning  days — which  were  usually  from 
Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  both  days 
inclusive. 

Leaning  against  the  door-post  of  this  his  dwelling, 
the  locksmith  stood  early  on  the  morning  after  he 
had  met  with  the  wounded  man,  gazing  disconso- 
lately at  a  great  wooden  emblem  of  a  key,  painted 
in  vivid  yellow  to  resemble  gold,  which  dangled 
from  the  house-front,  and  swung  to  and  fro  with  a 
mournful  creaking  noise,  as  if  complaining  that  it 
had  nothing  to  unlock.  Sometimes  he  looked  over 
his  shoulder  into  the  shop,  which  was  so  dark  and 
dingy  with  numerous  tokens  of  his  trade,  and  so 
blackened  by  the  smoke  of  a  little  forge,  near  which 
his  'prentice  was  at  work,  that  it  would  have  been 
difficult  for  one  unused  to  such  espials  to  have  dis- 
tinguished anything  but  various  tools  of  uncouth 
make  and  shape,  great  bunches  of  rusty  keys,  frag- 
ments of  iron,  half-finished  locks,  and  such-like 
things,  which  garnished  the  walls  and  hung  in 
clusters  from  the  ceiling. 

After  a  long  and  patient  contemplation  of  the 
golden  key,  and  many  such  backward  glances,  Ga- 
briel stepped  into  the  road,  and  stole  a  look  at  the 
upper  windoAvs.  One  of  them  chanced  to  be  thrown 
open  at  the  moment,  and  a  roguish  face  met  his ;  a 
face  lighted  up  by  the  loveliest  pair  of  sparkling 

VOL.  I.-4. 


50  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

eyes  that  ever  locksmith  looked  upon ;  the  face  of  a 
pretty,  laughing  girl ;  dimpled  and  fresh,  and  health- 
ful—  the  very  impersonation  of  good  humor  and 
blooming  beauty. 

"  Hush  ! "  she  whispered,  bending  forward  and 
pointing  archly  to  the  window  underneath.  "  Mother 
is  still  asleep." 

"Still,  my  dear!"  returned  the  locksmith  in  the 
same  tone.  "  You  talk  as  if  she  had  been  asleep  all 
night,  instead  of  little  more  than  half  an  hour. 
But  I'm  very  thankful.  Sleep's  a  blessing  —  no 
doubt  about  it."  The  last  few  words  he  muttered 
to  himself. 

'•How  cruel  of  you  to  keep  us  up  so  late  this 
morning,  and  never  tell  us  where  you  were,  or  send 
us  word  !  "  said  the  girl. 

"  Ah,  Dolly,  Dolly ! "  returned  the  locksmith, 
shaking  his  head  and  smiling,  "  how  cruel  of  you  to 
run  upstairs  to  bed !  Come  down  to  breakfast, 
madcap,  and  come  down  lightly,  or  you'll  wake  your 
mother.     She  must  be  tired,  I  am  sure  —  /  am." 

Keeping  these  latter  words  to  himself,  and  return- 
ing liis  daughter's  nod,  he  was  passing  into  the 
workshop,  with  the  smile  she  had  awakened  still 
beaming  on  his  face,  when  he  just  caught  sight  of 
his  'prentice's  brown-paper  cap  ducking  down  to 
avoid  observation,  and  shrinking  from  tlie  window 
back  to  its  former  place,  which  the  wearer  no  sooner 
reached  than  he  began  to  hammer  lustily. 

"  Listening  again,  Simon  !  "  said  Gabriel  to  him- 
self. "  That's  bad.  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  does 
he  expect  the  girl  to  say,  that  I  always  catch  him 
listening  when  she  speaks,  and  never  at  any  other 
time  ?     A  bad  habit,  Sim,  a  sneaking  underhanded 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  51 

way.     Ah !  you  may  hammer,  but  you  won't  beat 
that  out  of  me,  if  you  work  at  it  till  your  time's 


up 


f " 


So  saying,  and  shaking  his  head  gravely,  he  re- 
entered the  workshop,  and  confronted  the  subject 
of  these  remarks. 

"  There's  enough  of  that  just  now,"  said  the  lock- 
smith. "  You  needn't  make  any  more  of  that  con- 
founded clatter.     Breakfast's  ready." 

"  Sir,"  said  Sim,  looking  up  with  amazing  polite- 
ness, and  a  peculiar  little  bow  cut  short  off  at  the 
neck.     "  I  shall  attend  you  immediately." 

"I  suppose,"  muttered  Gabriel,  "that's  out  of  the 
'Prentice's  Garland,  or  the  'Prentice's  Delight,  or 
the  'Prentice's  Warbler,  or  the  'Prentice's  Guide  to 
the  Gallows,  or  some  such  improving  text-book. 
Now  he's  going  to  beautify  himself  —  here's  a  pre- 
cious locksmith  ! " 

Quite  unconscious  that  his  master  was  looking  on 
from  the  dark  corner  by  the  parlor  door,  Sim  threw 
off  the  paper  cap,  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  in  two 
extraordinary  steps,  something  between  skating  and 
minuet  dancing,  bounded  to  a  washing  place  at  the 
other  end  of  the  shop,  and  there  removed  from  his 
face  and  hands  all  traces  of  his  previous  work  — 
practising  the  same  step  all  the  time  with  the  ut- 
most gravity.  This  done,  he  drew  from  some  con- 
cealed place  a  little  scrap  of  looking-glass,  and  with 
its  assistance  arranged  his  hair,  and  ascertained  the 
exact  state  of  a  little  carbuncle  on  his  nose.  Hav- 
ing now  completed  his  toilet,  he  placed  the  fragment 
of  mirror  on  a  low  bench,  and  looked  over  his 
shoulder  at  so  much  of  his  legs  as  could  be  reflected 
in  that  small  compass  with  the  greatest  possible 
complacency  and  satisfaction. 


52  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

Sim,  as  he  was  called  in  the  locksmith's  family, 
or  Mr.  Simon  Tappertit,  as  he  called  himself,  and 
required  all  men  to  style  him  out  of  doors,  on  holi- 
days, and  Sundays  out,  was  an  old-fashioned,  thin- 
faced,  sleek-haired,  sharp-nosed,  small-eyed  little 
fellow,  very  little  more  than  five  feet  high,  and 
thoroughly  convinced  in  his  own  mind  that  he  was 
above  the  middle  size ;  rather  tall,  in  fact,  than 
otherwise.  Of  his  figure,  which  Avas  well  enough 
formed,  though  somewhat  of  the  leanest,  he  enter- 
tained the  highest  admiration ;  and  with  his  legs, 
which,  in  knee-breeches,  were  perfect  curiosities  of 
littleness,  he  was  enraptured  to  a  degree  amounting 
to  enthusiasm.  He  also  had  some  majestic,  shadowy 
ideas,  which  had  never  been  quite  fathomed  by  his 
intimate  friends,  concerning  the  power  of  his  eye. 
Indeed,  he  had  been  known  to  go  so  far  as  to  boast 
that  he  could  utterly  quell  and  subdue  the  haughti- 
est beauty  by  a  simple  process,  which  he  termed 
"eying  her  over;"  but  it  must  be  added,  that 
neither  of  this  faculty,  nor  of  the  power  he  claimed 
to  have,  through  the  same  gift,  of  vanquishing  and 
heaving  down  dumb  animals,  even  in  a  rabid  state, 
had  he  ever  furnished  evidence  which  could  be 
deemed  quite  satisfactory  and  conclusive. 

It  may  be  inferred,  from  these  premises,  that  in 
the  small  body  of  Mr.  Tappertit  there  was  locked 
up  an  ambitious  and  aspiring  soul.  As  certain 
liquors,  confined  in  casks  too  cramped  in  their 
dimensions,  will  ferment,  and  fret,  and  chafe  in 
their  imprisonment,  so  the  spiritual  essence  or  soul 
of  Mr.  Tappertit  would  sometimes  fume  within  that 
precious  cask,  his  body,  until,  with  great  foam  and 
froth  and  splutter,  it  would  force  a  vent,  and  carry 


BAENABY  KUDGE.  53 

all  before  it.  It  was  his  custom  to  remark,  in  refer- 
ence to  any  one  of  these  occasions,  that  his  soul  had 
got  into  his  head ;  and  in  this  novel  kind  of  intoxi- 
cation many  scrapes  and  mishaps  befell  him,  which 
he  had  frequently  concealed  with  no  small  difficulty 
from  his  worthy  master. 

Sim  Tappertit,  among  the  other  fancies  upon 
which  his  before-mentioned  soul  was  forever  feast- 
ing and  regaling  itself  (and  which  fancies,  like  the 
liver  of  Prometheus,  grew  as  they  were  fed  upon), 
had  a  mighty  notion  of  his  order  ;  and  had  been 
heard  by  the  servant-maid  openly  expressing  his 
regret  that  the  'prentices  no  longer  carried  clubs 
wherewith  to  mace  the  citizens :  that  was  his  strong 
expression.  He  was  likewise  reported  to  have  said 
that  in  former  times  a  stigma  had  been  cast  upon 
the  body  by  the  execution  of  George  Barnwell,  to 
which  they  should  not  have  basely  submitted,  but 
should  have  demanded  him  of  the  legislature  — 
temperately  at  first ;  then  by  an  appeal  to  arms,  if 
necessary  —  to  be  dealt  with  as  they  in  their  wis- 
dom might  think  fit.  These  thoughts  always  led 
him  to  consider  what  a  glorious  engine  the  'prentices 
might  yet  become  if  they  had  but  a  master  spirit  at 
their  head ;  and  then  he  would  darkly,  and  to  the 
terror  of  his  hearers,  hint  at  certain  reckless  fellows 
that  he  knew  of,  and  at  a  certain  Lion  Heart  ready 
to  become  their  captain,  who,  once  afoot,  would 
make  the  Lord  Mayor  tremble  on  his  throne. 

In  respect  of  dress  and  personal  decoration,  Sim 
Tappertit  was  no  less  of  an  adventurous  and  enter- 
prising character.  He  had  been  seen  beyond  dis- 
pute to  pull  ofE  ruffles  of  the  finest  quality  at  the 
corner  of  the  street  on  Sunday  nights,  and  to  put 


54  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

them  carefully  in  his  pocket  before  retuiniing  home ; 
and  it  was  quite  notorious  that  on  all  great  holiday 
occasions  it  was  his  habit  to  exchange  his  plain 
steel  knee-buckles  for  a  pair  of  glittering  paste, 
under  cover  of  a  friendly  post,  planted  most  con- 
veniently in  that  same  spot.  Add  to  this,  that  he 
was  in  years  just  twenty,  in  his  looks  much  older, 
and  in  conceit  at  least  two  hundred ;  that  he  had  no 
objection  to  be  jested  with  touching  his  admiration 
of  his  master's  daughter ;  and  had  even,  when  called 
upon  at  a  certain  obscure  tavern  to  pledge  the  lady 
whom  he  honored  with  his  love,  toasted,  with  many 
winks  and  leers,  a  fair  creature  whose  Christian 
name,  he  said,  began  with  a  D  — ;  and  as  much  is 
known  of  Sim  Tappertit,  who  has  by  this  time 
followed  the  locksmith  in  to  breakfast,  as  is  neces- 
sary to  be  known  in  making  his  acquaintance. 

It  was  a  substantial  meal ;  for,  over  and  above 
the  ordinary  tea  equipage,  the  board  creaked  beneath 
the  weight  of  a  jolly  round  of  beef,  a  ham  of  the 
first  magnitude,  and  sundry  towers  of  buttered 
Yorkshire  cake,  piled  slice  upon  slice  in  most  allur- 
ing order.  There  was  also  a  goodly  jug  of  well- 
browned  clay,  fashioned  into  the  form  of  an  old 
gentleman,  not  by  any  means  unlike  the  locksmith, 
atop  of  whose  bald  head  was  a  fine  white  froth 
answering  to  his  wig,  indicative,  beyond  dispute,  of 
sparkling  home-brewed  ale.  But,  better  far  than 
fair  home-brewed,  or  Yorkshire  cake,  or  ham,  or 
beef,  or  anything  to  eat  or  drink  that  earth  or  air  or 
water  can  supply,  there  sat,  presiding  over  all,  the 
locksmith's  rosy  daughter,  before  whose  dark  eyes 
even  beef  grew  insignificant,  and  malt  became  as 
nothing. 


BAKNABY  EUDGE.  55 

Fathers  should  never  kiss  their  daughters  when 
young  men  are  by.  It's  too  much.  There  are 
bounds  to  human  endurance.  So  thought  Sim  Tap- 
pertit  when  Gabriel  drew  those  rosy  lips  to  his  — 
those  lips  within  Sim's  reach  from  day  to  day,  and 
yet  so  far  off.  He  had  a  respect  for  his  master,  but 
he  wished  the  Yorkshire  cake  might  choke  him. 

"  Father,"  said  the  locksmith's  daughter,  when 
this  salute  was  over,  and  they  took  their  seats  at 
table,  "  what  is  this  I  hear  about  last  night  ?  " 

"All  true,  my  dear;  true  as  the  Gospel,  Doll." 

"  Young  Mr.  Chester  robbed,  and  lying  wounded 
in  the  road,  when  you  came  up  ?  " 

"Ay  —  Mr.  Edward.  And  beside  him,  Barnaby 
calling  for  help  with  all  his  might.  It  was  well  it 
happened  as  it  did  ;  for  the  road's  a  lonely  one,  the 
hour  was  late,  and  the  night  being  cold,  and  poor 
Barnaby  even  less  sensible  than  usual  from  surprise 
and  fright,  the  young  gentleman  might  have  met  his 
death  in  a  very  short  time." 

"  I  dread  to  think  of  it !  "  cried  his  daughter  with 
a  shudder.     "  How  did  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  Know  him  ! "  returned  the  locksmith.  "  I 
didn't  know  him  —  how  could  I  ?  I  had  never  seen 
him,  often  as  I  had  heard  and  spoken  of  him.  I 
took  him  to  ]\[rs.  Rudge's  ;  and  she  no  sooner  saw 
him  than  the  truth  came  out." 

"  Miss  Emma,  father !  If  this  news  should  reach 
her,  enlarged  upon  as  it  is  sure  to  be,  she  will  go 
distracted." 

"  Why,  lookye  there  again,  how  a  man  suffers  for 
being  good-natured,"  said  the  locksmith.  "  Miss 
Emma  was  with  her  uncle  at  the  masquerade  at 
Carlisle  House,  where  she  had  gone,  as  the  people 


Ob  BAFvyABY   EUDGE. 

at  the  Warren  told  me.  sorely  against  her  will. 
What  does  your  blockhead  father,  when  he  and  ilrs. 
Eudge  have  laid  their  heads  together,  but  goes  there 
when  he  ought  to  be  abed,  makes  interest  with  his 
friend  the  doorkeeper,  slips  him  on  a  mask  and 
domino,  and  mixes  with  the  maskers."' 

"  And  like  himself  to  do  so  I ''  cried  the  girl,  put- 
ting her  fair  arm  round  his  neck,  and  giving  him  a 
most  enthusiastic  kiss. 

'•  Like  himself  1  "  repeated  Gabriel,  affecting  to 
grumble,  but  evidently  delighted  with  the  part  he 
had  taken,  and  with  her  praise.  "  Ver}-  like  himself 
— so  your  mother  said.  However,  he  mingled  with 
the  crowd,  and  prettily  worried  and  badgered  he 
was.  I  wai-rant  you.  with  people  squeaking,  '  Don't 
you  know  me  ?  '  and  "I've  found  you  out,'  and  all 
that  kind  of  nonsense  in  his  ears.  He  might  have 
wandered  on  till  now,  but  in  a  little  room  there  was 
a  young  lady  who  had  taken  off  her  mask,  on  account 
of  the  place  being  very  wai-m,  and  was  sitting  there 
alone." 

*''  And  that  was  she  ?  "  said  his  daughter  hastily. 

'•■  And  that  was  she,"  replied  the  locksmith ;  ••'  and 
I  no  sooner  whispered  to  her  what  the  matter  was 
—  as  softly,  Doll,  and  with  nearly  as  much  art  as 
you  could  have  used  yourself  —  than  she  gives  a 
kind  of  scream  and  faints  away." 

'•  What  did  you  do  —  what  happened  next  ?  " 
asked  his  daughter. 

'•Why,  the  masks  came  flocking  round,  with  a 
general  noise  and  hubbub,  and  I  thought  myself  in 
luck  to  get  clear  off,  that's  all."  rejoined  the  lock- 
smith. *•  What  happened  when  I  reached  home  you 
may  guess,  if  you  didn't  hear  it.     Ah  !     Well,  it's  a 


BAKNABY  EUDGE.  57 

poor  heart  that  never  rejoices. — Put  Toby  this  way, 
my  dear." 

This  Toby  was  the  brown  jug  of  which  previous 
mention  has  been  made.  Applying  his  lips  to  the 
worthy  old  gentleman's  benevolent  forehead,  the 
locksmith,  who  had  all  this  time  been  ravaging 
among  the  eatables,  kept  them  there  so  long,  at  the 
same  time  raising  the  vessel  slowly  in  the  air,  that 
at  length  Toby  stood  on  his  head  upon  liis  nose, 
when  he  smacked  his  lips  and  set  him  on  the  table 
again  with  fond  reluctance. 

Although  Sim  Tappertit  had  taken  no  share  in 
this  conversation,  no  part  of  it  being  addressed  to 
him,  he  had  not  been  wanting  in  such  silent  mani- 
festations of  astonishment  as  he  deemed  most  com- 
patible with  the  favorable  display  of  his  eyes. 
Regarding  the  pause  which  now  ensued  as  a  particu- 
larly advantageous  opportunity  for  doing  great 
execution  with  them  upon  the  locksmith's  daughter 
(who  he  had  no  doubt  was  looking  at  him  in  mute 
admiration),  he  began  to  screw  and  twist  his  face, 
and  especially  those  features,  into  such  extraordi- 
nary, hideous,  and  unparalleled  contortions,  that 
Gabriel,  who  happened  to  look  towards  him,  was 
stricken  with  amazement. 

"  Why,  what  the  devil's  the  matter  with  the  lad  ?  " 
cried  the  locksmith.     "  Is  he  choking  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  demanded  Sim  with  some  disdain. 

"  Who  ?  Why  you,"  returned  his  master.  "  What 
do  you  mean  by  making  those  horrible  faces  over 
your  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Faces  are  matters  of  taste,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit,  rather  discomfited ;  not  the  less  so  because  he 
saw  the  locksmith's  daughter  smiling. 


58  RAKNAP.Y   ErDGK« 

"  Sim,"  i-^joiueU  Gabnel.  laughing  ht^artily,  <<ilaiA 
be  a  fool,  for  I\l  rather  see  you  iu  your  seu^ses, 
The^e  youug  fellows,'^  he  ailded,  turning  to  his 
daughter,  "are  always  oonnnitting  soane  foJly  or 
another.  Theiia>  was  a  quarrel  between  Joe  AYillet 
and  old  John  last  night — though  I  ean't  say  Joe 
was  much  in  fault  either.  He'll  l>e  missing  one  of 
these  mornings,  and  will  have  gone  away  upon  some 
wild-goose  errand,  seeking  his  fortune,  —  ^Yhy, 
what's  the  matter,  1X>11  ?  Yon  ai-e  making  faces 
now.    The  girls  ai-e  as  Ixad  as  the  boys  every  bit !  ** 

"  It's  the  tea,'*  said  I>olly,  turning  altein>ately  very 
red  and  very  white,  which  is  no  doubt  the  effect  oi 
a  slight  scald — ''  so  very  hot.'* 

Mr.  Tap^>ertit  looked  immensely  big  at  a  quartern 
loaf  on  the  table,  and  bi"eathe<l  hanl, 

"  Is  that  all  ? ''  i-eturneil  the  locksmith.  '^  VMt 
some  more  milk  in  it.  —  Yes,  I  am  sorry  for  Joe, 
because  he  is  a  likely  young  fellow,  and  gains  upon 
one  every  time  one  sees  him.  But  he'll  start  off, 
yottUl  find.  Indeed,  he  told  me  as  much  himself  I** 
■  "« Indeed  5  '*  cried  Dolly  in  a  faint  voice.  "  In  — 
deed !  '* 

"  Is  the  tea  tickling  your  throat  still,  my  dear  f '' 
said  the  locksmith. 

But,  befoi-e  his  daughter  could  make  him  any 
answer,  she  was  taken  with  a  troublesome  cough, 
and  it  was  such  a  very  unpleasant  ^\>ugh  that,  m  hen 
she  left  off,  the  tears  were  starting  in  her  bright 
eyes.  The  good-nature<l  lo<'ksmith  was  still  j>atting 
her  on  the  back  and  applying  such  gentle  restora- 
tives, when  a  message  arrive<l  fivm  Mrs.  Yanlen, 
making  known  to  all  whom  it  might  concern,  that 
she  felt  too  much  indisposed  to  rise  after  hex  great 


;r3 


BARNABY   RTJDGE.  59 

agitation  and  anxiety  of  the  previous  night ;  and 
therefore  desired  to  be  immediately  accommodated 
with  the  little  black  teapot  of  strong  mixed  tea,  a 
couple  of  rounds  of  buttered  toast,  a  middling-sized 
dish  of  beef  and  ham  cut  thin,  and  the  Protestant 
Manual  in  two  volumes,  post  octavo.  Like  some 
other  ladies  who  in  remote  ages  flourished  upon  this 
globe,  Mrs.  Varden  was  most  devout  when  most  ill- 
tempered.  Whenever  she  and  her  husband  were  at 
unusual  variance,  then  the  Protestant  Manual  was 
in  high  feather. 

Knowing  from  experience  what  these  requests 
portended,  the  triumvirate  broke  up ;  Dolly,  to  see 
the  orders  executed  with  all  despatch ;  Gabriel,  to 
some  out-of-door  work  in  his  little  chaise  ;  and  Sim, 
to  his  daily  duty  in  the  workshop,  to  which  retreat 
he  carried  the  big  look,  although  the  loaf  remained 
behind. 

Indeed,  the  big  look  increased  immensely,  and 
when  he  had  tied  his  apron  on,  became  quite  gigan- 
tic. It  was  not  until  he  had  several  times  walked 
up  and  down  with  folded  arms,  and  the  longest 
strides  he  could  take,  and  had  kicked  a  great  many 
small  articles  out  of  his  way,  that  his  lip  began  to 
curl.  At  length,  a  gloomy  derision  came  upon  his 
features,  and  he  smiled;  uttering  meanwhile  with 
supreme  contempt  the  monosyllable  "  Joe  !  " 

"  I  eyed  her  over  while  he  talked  about  the  fel- 
low," he  said,  "  and  that  was  of  course  the  reason  of 
her  being  confused.     Joe  !  " 

He  walked  up  and  down  again  much  quicker  than 
before,  and  if  possible  with  longer  strides ;  some- 
times stopping  to  take  a  glance  at  his  legs,  and 
sometimes  to  jerk  out  and  cast  from  him  another 


60  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Joe  ! "  In  tlie  course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or 
so  he  again  assumed  the  paper  cap  and  tried  to 
work.     No.     It  could  not  be  done. 

"  I'll  do  nothing  to-day,"  said  j\Ir.  Tappertit,  dash- 
ing it  down  again,  "  but  grind.  I'll  grind  up  all  the 
tools.  Grinding  will  suit  my  present  humor  well. 
Joe  !  " 

Whirr-r-r-r.  The  grindstone  was  soon  in  motion  ; 
the  sparks  were  flying  off  in  showers.  This  was  the 
occupation  for  his  heated  spirit. 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r. 

"  Something  will  come  of  this  !  "  said  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit, pausing  as  if  in  triumph,  and  wiping  his 
heated  face  upon  his  sleeve.  "  Something  will  come 
of  this.     I  hope  it  mayn't  be  human  gore  !  " 

Whirr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r. 


CHAPTER  V. 

As  soon  as  the  business  of  the  day  was  over,  the 
locksmith  sallied  forth  alone  to  visit  the  wounded 
gentleman  and  ascertain  the  progress  of  his  recov- 
ery. The  house  where  he  had  left  him  was  in  a  by- 
street in  Southwark,  not  far  from  London  Bridge  ; 
and  thither  he  hied  with  all  speed,  bent  upon  re- 
turning with  as  little  delay  as  might  be,  and  getting 
to  bed  betimes. 

The  evening  was  boisterous  —  scarcely  better  than 
the  previous  night  had  been.  It  was  not  easy  for  a 
stout  man  like  Gabriel  to  keep  his  legs  at  the  street 
corners,  or  to  make  head  against  the  high  wind, 
which  often  fairly  got  the  better  of  him  and  drove 
him  back  some  paces,  or,  in  defiance  of  all  his 
energy,  forced  him  to  take  shelter  in  an  arch  or 
doorway  until  the  fury  of  the  gust  was  spent.  Oc- 
casionally a  hat  or  wig,  or  both,  came  spinning  and 
trundling  past  him,  like  a  mad  thing ;  while  the 
more  serious  spectacle  of  falling  tiles  and  slates,  or 
of  masses  of  brick  and  mortar,  or  fragments  of 
stone-coping  rattling  upon  the  pavement  near  at 
hand,  and  splitting  into  fragments,  did  not  increase 
the  pleasure  of  the  journey,  or  make  the  way  less 
dreary. 

"  A  trying  night  for  a  man  like  me  to  walk  in !  " 
61 


62  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

said  the  locksmith,  as  he  knocked  softly  at  the 
widow's  door.  "  I'd  rather  be  in  old  John's  chim- 
ney-corner, faith  ! " 

"Who's  there  ?"  demanded  a  woman's  voice  from 
within.  Being  answered,  it  added  a  hasty  word  of 
welcome,  and  the  door  was  quickly  opened. 

She  was  about  forty  —  perhaps  two  or  three  years 
older — with  a  cheerful  aspect,  and  a  face  that  had 
once  been  pretty.  It  bore  traces  of  affliction  and 
care,  but  they  were  of  an  old  date,  and  Time  had 
smoothed  them.  Any  one  who  had  bestowed  biit  a 
casual  glance  on  Barnaby  might  have  known  that 
this  was  his  mother,  from  the  strong  resemblance 
between  them  ;  but  Avhere  in  his  face  there  was 
wildness  and  vacancy,  in  hers  there  was  the  patient 
composure  of  long  effort  and  quiet  resignation. 

One  thing  about  this  face  was  very  strange  and 
startling.  You  could  not  look  upon  it  in  its  most 
cheerful  mood  without  feeling  that  it  had  some 
extraordinary  capacity  of  expressing  terror.  It  was 
not  on  the  surface.  It  was  in  no  one  feature  that  it 
lingered.  You  could  not  take  the  eyes,  or  mouth, 
or  lines  upon  the  cheek,  and  say  if  this  or  that  were 
otherwise,  it  would  not  be  so.  Yet  there  it  always 
lurked  —  something  forever  dimly  seen,  but  ever 
there,  and  never  absent  for  a  moment.  It  was  the 
faintest,  palest  shadow  of  some  look,  to  which  an 
instant  of  intense  and  most  unutterable  horror  only 
could  have  given  birth;  but  indistinct  and  feeble 
as  it  was,  it  did  suggest  what  that  look  must  have 
been,  and  fixed  it  in  the  mind  as  if  it  had  had  exist- 
ence in  a  dream. 

More  faintly  imaged,  and  wanting  force  and  pur- 
pose, as  it  were,  because  of  his  darkened  intellect, 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  63 

there  was  this  same  stamp  upon  the  son.  Seen  in 
a  picture,  it  must  have  had  some  legend  with  it,  and 
would  have  haunted  those  who  looked  upon  the  can- 
vas. They  who  knew  the  IMaypole  story,  and  could 
remember  what  the  widow  was  before  her  husband's 
and  his  master's  murder,  understood  it  well.  They 
recollected  how  the  change  had  come,  and  could  call 
to  mind  that  when  her  son  was  born,  upon  the  very 
day  the  deed  was  known,  he  bore  upon  his  wrist 
what  seemed  a  smear  of  blood  but  half  washed 
out. 

"  God  save  you,  neighbor ! "  said  the  locksmith,  as 
he  followed  her  with  the  air  of  an  old  friend  into  a 
little  parlor  where  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning. 

"  And  you,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "  Your  kind 
heart  has  brought  you  here  again.  Nothing  will 
keep  you  at  home,  I  know  of  old,  if  there  are 
friends  to  serve  or  comfort  out  of  doors." 

"  Tut,  tut,"  returned  the  locksmith,  rubbing  his 
hands  and  warming  them.  "  You  women  are  such 
talkers.     What  of  the  patient,  neighbor  ?  " 

"  He  is  sleeping  now.  He  was  very  restless 
towards  daylight,  and  for  some  hours  tossed  and 
tumbled  sadly.  But  the  fever  has  left  him,  and  the 
doctor  says  he  will  soon  mend.  He  must  not  be  re- 
moved until  to-morrow." 

"  He  has  had  visitors  to-day  —  humph  ?  "  said 
Gabriel  slyly. 

"  Yes.  Old  Mr.  Chester  has  been  here  ever  since 
we  sent  for  him,  and  had  not  been  gone  many  min- 
utes when  you  knocked." 

"  No  ladies  ? "  said  Gabriel,  elevating  his  eye- 
brows and  looking  disappointed. 

"  A  letter,"  replied  the  widow. 


64  EARXABY   F.rXGE. 

"Come.  That's  bert^r  than  noriiing !  "  cried  th.e 
locksmith.     *•  Who  was  the  bearer  ?  " 

"Bamaby.  of  course." 

'•Bamaby's  a  jewel!  "  s;iid  Vardcn;  'and.  comes 
and  goes  witli  ease  where  we  who  think  onrselves 
mneh  wiser  would  make  but  a  poor  hand  of  it.  He 
is  not  o-it  wandering  again.  I  hope  ?  " 

•  Tl...ii:  Hearen,  he  is  in  his  bed;  having  been 

:    r  -    .5  you  know,  and    "  h:-  feet  all  day. 

}.  tir^  out^     Ah.  :    _        :.  if  I  could 

L       -      '  -       :  ?    — if  I  ;    ;   i       :  tame  down. 


To  Lij  mind 


J:.i  --/■--'  .    i  yet.  though  she 

—  ^  ugl.:  :.  ci-rrr  her.  ?j!id  spoke 

-      -    :  his  own.  she  ~  ^  ^i   i  to  hear 


snirh.     -Take  care.  "    -::  — e  axe  ctovt 


he? 


■Ahl    He^s  a  kn;^      _  :i  : 

-  hiTn.     Oh!     He's  a  deep   c: 

_ii  write.  : :.  i     -:  ac- 

„^:  ~3S   thai  —  _r:_  taT>- 


BAEN.IBY   EUDGE.  65 

"ITo,"  returned  the  widow.  "It  was  in  the 
street,  I  think.  Hark !  Yes.  There  again !  'Tis 
some  one  knocking  softly  at  the  shutter.  Who  can 
it  be  ?  " 

They  had  been  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  for  the 
invalid  lay  overhead,  and  the  walls  and  ceilings 
being  thin  and  poorly  built,  the  sound  of  their 
voices  might  otherwise  have  disturbed  his  slumber. 
The  party  without,  whoever  it  was,  could  have  stood 
close  to  the  shutter  without  hearing  anything 
spoken ;  and,  seeing  the  light  through  the  chinks 
and  finding  all  so  quiet,  might  have  been  persuaded 
that  only  one  person  was  there. 

''Some  thief  or  ruffian,  maybe,"  said  the  lock- 
smith.    "  Give  me  the  light." 

"  No,  no,"  she  returned  hastily.  "  Such  visitors 
have  never  come  to  this  poor  dwelling.  Do  you 
stay  here.  You're  within  call,  at  the  worst.  I 
would  rather  go  myself  —  alone." 

'•'  Why  ?  "  said  the  locksmith,  unwillingly  relin- 
quishing the  candle  he  had  caught  up  from  the 
table. 

"  Because  —  I  don't  know  why  —  because  the  wish 
is  strong  upon  me,"  she  rejoined.  "  There  again  — 
do  not  detain  me,  I  beg  of  you  ! " 

Gabriel  looked  at  her  in  great  surprise  to  see  one 
who  was  usually  so  mild  and  quiet  thus  agitated,  and 
with  so  little  cause.  She  left  the  room  and  closed 
the  door  behind  her.  She  stood  for  a  moment,  as  if 
hesitating  with  her  hand  upon  the  lock.  In  this 
short  interval  the  knocking  came  again,  and  a  voice 
close  to  the  window  —  a  voice  the  locksmith  seemed 
to  recollect,  and  to  have  some  disagreeable  associa- 
tion with  —  whispered,  "  Make  haste." 

VOL.  I.-5. 


66  BAENABY  RUDGE. 

The  words  were  uttered  in  that  low  distinct  voice 
which  finds  its  way  so  readily  to  sleepers'  ears,  and. 
wakes  them  in  a  fright.  For  a  moment  it  startled, 
even  the  locksmith,  who  involuntarily  drew  back 
from  the  window,  and  listened. 

The  wind  rumbling  in  the  chimney  made  it  diffi- 
cult to  hear  what  passed,  but  he  could  tell  that  the 
door  was  opened,  that  there  was  the  tread  of  a  man 
upon  the  creaking  boards,  and  then  a  moment's 
silence  —  broken  by  a  suppressed  something  which 
was  not  a  shriek,  or  groan,  or  cry  for  help,  and  yet 
might  have  been  either  or  all  three ;  and  the 
words  "  My  God  !  "  uttered  in  a  voice  it  chilled  him 
to  hear. 

He  rushed  out  upon  the  instant.  There,  at  last, 
was  that  dreadful  look  —  the  very  one  he  seemed  to 
know  so  well,  and  yet  had  never  seen  before  — upon 
her  face.  There  she  stood  frozen  to  the  ground, 
gazing  with  starting  eyes,  and  livid  cheeks,  and 
every  feature  fixed  and  ghastly,  upon  the  man  he 
had  encountered  in  the  dark  last  night.  His  eyes 
met  those  of  the  locksmith.  It  was  but  a  flash,  an 
instant,  a  breath  upon  a  polished  glass,  and  he  was 
gone. 

The  locksmith  was  upon  him  —  had  the  skirts  of 
his  streaming  garment  almost  in  his  grasp  —  when 
his  arms  were  tightly  clutched,  and  the  widow  flung 
herself  upon  the  ground  before  him. 

"  The  other  way  —  the  other  way  !  "  she  cried. 
''  He  went  the  other  way.     Turn  —  turn  !  " 

"  The  other  way  !  I  see  him  now,"  rejoined  the 
locksmith,  pointing  —  "  yonder  —  there  —  there  is 
his  shadow  passing  by  that  light.  "What  —  who  is 
this  ?     Let  me  go." 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  67 

"  Come  back,  come  back  ! "  exclaimed  the  woman, 
clasping  him.  "  Do  not  touch  him  on  your  life.  I 
charge  you,  come  back.  He  carries  other  lives  besides 
his  own.     Come  back  !  " 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  cried  the  locksmith. 

"■  No  matter  what  it  means,  don't  ask,  don't  speak, 
don't  think  about  it.  He  is  not  to  be  followed, 
checked,  or  stopped.     Come  back  ! " 

The  old  man  looked  at  her  in  wonder,  as  she 
writhed  and  clung  about  him  ;  and  borne  down  by 
her  passion,  suffered  her  to  drag  him  into  the  house. 
It  was  not  until  she  had  chained  and  double-locked 
the  door,  fastened  every  bolt  and  bar  with  the  heat 
and  fury  of  a  maniac,  and  drawn  him  back  into  the 
room,  that  she  turned  upon  him,  once  again,  that 
stony  look  of  horror,  and  sinking  down  into  a  chair, 
covered  her  face,  and  shuddered,  as  though  the  hand 
of  death  were  on  her. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Beyond  all  measure  astonished  by  the  strange  oc- 
currences which  had  passed  with  so  much  violence 
and  rapidity,  the  locksmith  gazed  upon  the  shud- 
dering figure  in  the  chair  like  one  half  stupefied, 
and  would  have  gazed  much  longer,  had  not  his 
tongue  been  loosened  by  compassion  and  humanity. 

"  You  are  ill,"  said  Gabriel.  '*  Let  me  call  some 
neighbor  in." 

"Not  for  the  world,"  she  rejoined,  motioning  to 
him  with  her  trembling  hand,  and  still  holding  her 
face  averted.  "  It  is  enough  that  you  have  been  by 
to  see  this." 

"Nay,  more  than  enough  —  or  less,"  said  Gabriel. 

"  Be  it  so,"  she  returned.  "  As  you  like.  Ask  me 
no  questions,  I  entreat  you." 

"  Neighbor,"  said  the  locksmith  after  a  pause,  "is 
this  fair,  or  reasonable,  or  just  to  yourself  ?  Is  it 
like  you,  who  have  known  me  so  long  and  sought  my 
advice  in  all  matters  —  like  you,  who  from  a  girl 
have  had  a  strong  mind  and  a  stanch  heart  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  need  of  them,"  she  replied.  "  I  am 
growing  old,  both  in  years  and  care.  Perhaps  that, 
and  too  much  trial,  have  made  them  weaker  than 
they  used  to  be.     Do  not  speak  to  me." 

"  How  can  I  see  what  I  have  seen,  and  hold  my 
68 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  69 

peace  ?  "  returned  the  locksmith.  "  Who  was  that 
man,  and  why  has  his  coming  made  this  change 
in  you  ? " 

She  was  silent,  but  held  to  the  chair  as  though  to 
save  herself  from  falling  on  the  ground. 

"  I  take  the  license  of  an  old  acquaintance,  ]\Iary," 
said  the  locksmith,  "who  has  ever  had  a  warm 
regard  for  you,  and  maybe  has  tried  to  prove  it 
when  he  could.  Who  is  this  ill-favored  man,  and 
what  has  he  to  do  with  you  ?  who  is  this  ghost,  that 
is  only  seen  in  the  black  niglits  and  bad  weather  ? 
How  does  he  know,  and  why  does  he  haunt,  this 
house,  whispering  through  chinks  and  crevices,  as  if 
there  was  that  between  him  and  you  which  neither 
durst  so  much  as  speak  aloud  of  ?     Who  is  he  ?  " 

''You  do  well  to  say  he  haunts  this  house," 
returned  the  widow  faintly.  ''His  shadow  has 
been  upon  it  and  me  in  light  and  darkness,  at  noon- 
day and  midnight.  And  now,  at  last,  he  has  come 
in  the  body ! " 

"But  he  wouldn't  have  gone  in  the  body," 
returned  the  locksmith  with  some  irritation,  "if 
yon  had  left  my  arms  and  legs  at  liberty.  What 
riddle  is  it?" 

"  It  is  one,"  she  answered,  rising  as  she  spoke, 
"that  must  remain  forever  as  it  is.  I  dare  not  say 
more  than  that." 

"  Dare  not ! "  repeated  the  wondering  locksmith. 

"  Do  not  press  me,"  she  replied.  "  I  am  sick  and 
faint,  and  every  faculty  of  life  seems  dead  within 
me.  —  No  !     Do  not  touch  me  either." 

Gabriel,  who  had  stepped  forward  to  render  her 
assistance,  fell  back  as  she  made  this  hasty  exclor 
mation,  and  regarded  her  in  silent  wonder. 


70  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"Let  me  go  my  way  alone,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "and  let  the  hands  of  no  honest  man  touch 
mine  to-night."  When  she  had  tottered  to  the  door, 
she  turned,  and  added  with  a  stronger  effort,  "  This 
is  a  secret,  which,  of  necessity,  I  trust  to  you.  You 
are  a  true  man.  As  you  have  ever  been  good  and 
kind  to  me,  keep  it.  If  any  noise  was  heard  above, 
make  some  excuse  —  say  anything  but  what  you 
really  saw,  and  never  let  a  word  or  look  between  us 
recall  this  circumstance.  I  trust  to  you.  Mind,  I 
trust  to  you.  How  much  I  trust  you  never  can  con- 
ceive." 

Casting  her  eyes  upon  him  for  an  instant,  she 
withdrew,  and  left  him  there  alone. 

Gabriel,  not  knowing  what  to  think,  stood  staring 
at  the  door  with  a  countenance  full  of  surprise  and 
dismay.  The  more  he  pondered  on  what  had  passed, 
the  less  able  he  was  to  give  it  any  favorable  inter- 
pretation. To  find  this  widow  woman,  whose  life 
for  so  many  years  had  been  supposed  to  be  one  of 
solitude  and  retirement,  and  who,  in  her  quiet  suffer- 
ing character,  had  gained  the  good  opinion  and  respect 
of  all  who  knew  her  —  to  find  her  linked  mysteri- 
ously with  an  ill-omened  man,  alarmed  at  his  appear- 
ance, and  yet  favoring  his  escape,  was  a  discovery 
that  pained  as  much  as  it  startled  him.  Her  reli- 
ance on  his  secrecy,  and  his  tacit  acquiescence,  in- 
creased his  distress  of  mind.  If  he  had  spoken 
boldly,  persisted  in  questioning  her,  detained  her 
when  she  rose  to  leave  the  room,  made  any  kind  of 
protest,  instead  of  silently  compromising  himself, 
as  he  felt  he  had  done,  he  would  have  been  more  at 
ease. 

"  Why  did  I  let  her  say  it  was  a  secret,  and  she 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  71 

trusted  it  to  me  ?  "  said  Gabriel,  putting  his  wig  on 
one  side  to  scratch  his  head  with  greater  ease,  and 
looking  ruefully  at  the  fire.  "  I  have  no  more  readi- 
ness than  old  John  himself.  Why  didn't  1  say 
firmly,  'You  have  no  right  to  such  secrets,  and  I 
demand  of  you  to  tell  me  what  this  means,'  instead 
of  standing  gaping  at  her,  like  an  old  mooncalf  as  I 
am  ?  But  there's  my  weakness.  I  can  be  obstinate 
enough  with  men  if  need  be,  but  women  may  twist 
me  round  their  fingers  at  their  pleasure." 

He  took  his  wig  off  outright  as  he  made  this 
reflection,  and,  warming  his  handkerchief  at  the 
fire,  began  to  rub  and  polish  his  bald  head  with  it 
until  it  glistened  again. 

"And  yet,"  said  the  locksmith,  softening  under 
this  soothing  process,  and  stopping  to  smile,  "it 
may  be  nothing.  Any  drunken  brawler  trying  to 
make  his  way  into  the  house  would  have  alarmed  a 
quiet  soul  like  her.  But  then  "  —  and  here  was  the 
vexation  — "  how  came  it  to  be  that  man ;  how 
comes  he  to  have  this  influence  over  her ;  how  came 
she  to  favor  his  getting  away  from  me ;  and,  more 
than  all,  how  came  she  not  to  say  it  was  a  sudden 
fright,  and  nothing  more  ?  It's  a  sad  thing  to  have, 
in  one  minute,  reason  to  mistrust  a  person  I  have 
known  so  long,  and  an  old  sweetheart  into  the  bar- 
gain :  but  what  else  can  I  do  with  all  this  upon  my 
mind  ?  —  Is  that  Barnaby  outside  there  ?  " 

"  Ay  ! "  he  cried,  looking  in  and  nodding.  "  Sure 
enough  it's  Barnaby.     How  did  you  guess  ?  " 

"  By  your  shadow,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"Oho  ! "  cried  Barnaby,  glancing  over  his  shoulder. 
"  He's  a  merry  fellow,  that  shadow,  and  keeps  close 
to  me,  though  I  am  silly.     \Ye  have  such  pranks, 


72  BAKNABY  BUDGE. 

such  walks,  such  runs,  such  gambols  on  the  grass ! 
Sometimes  he'll  be  half  as  tall  as  a  church  steeple, 
and  sometimes  no  bigger  than  a  dwarf.  Now  he 
goes  on  before,  and  now  behind,  and  anon  he'll  be 
stealing  slyly  on,  on  this  side,  or  on  that,  stopping 
whenever  I  stop,  and  thinking  I  can't  see  him, 
though  I  have  my  eye  on  him  sharp  enough.  Oh  ! 
he's  a  merry  fellow.  Tell  me  —  is  he  silly  too  ?  I 
think  he  is." 

"  AVhy  ?  "  asked  Gabriel. 

"  Because  he  never  tires  of  mocking  me,  but  does 
it  all  day  long.  —  Why  don't  you  come  ?  " 

"  Where  ?  " 

"Upstairs.  He  wants  you.  Stay  —  where's  his 
shadow  ?     Come.     You're  a  wise  man  ?  tell  me  that." 

"  Beside  him,  Barnaby ;  beside  him,  I  suppose," 
returned  the  locksmith. 

"  ISTo  !  "  he  replied,  shaking  his  head.  "  Guess 
again." 

"  Gone  out  a  walking,  maybe  ?  " 

"He  has  changed  shadows  with  a  woman,"  the 
idiot  whispered  in  his  ear,  and  then  fell  back  with  a 
look  of  triumph.  "  Her  shadow's  always  Avith  him, 
and  his  with  her.     That's  sport  I  think,  eh  ?  " 

"  Barnaby,"  said  the  locksmith  with  a  grave  look ; 
"come  hither,  lad." 

"  I  know  what  you  want  to  say.  I  know ! "  he 
replied,  keeping  away  from  him.  '*'  But  I'm  cun- 
ning, I'm  silent.  I  only  say  so  much  to  you.  —  Are 
you  ready  ?  "  As  he  spoke,  he  caught  up  the  light, 
and  waved  it  with  a  wild  laugh  above  his  head. 

"  Softly  —  gently,"  said  the  locksmith,  exerting 
all  his  influence  to  keep  him  calm  and  quiet.  "  I 
thought  you  had  been  asleep." 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  73 

"So  I  have  been  asleep,"  he  rejoined  with  widely- 
opened  eyes.  "  There  have  been  great  faces  coming 
and  going  —  close  to  my  face,  and  then  a  mile  away 
—  low  places  to  creep  through,  whether  I  would  or 
no  —  high  churches  to  fall  down  from  —  strange 
creatures  crowded  up  together  neck  and  heels,  to  sit 
upon  the  bed  —  that's  sleep,  eh  ?  " 

"  Dreams,  Barnaby,  dreams,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"  Dreams  !  "  he  echoed  softly,  drawing  closer  to 
him.     "Those  are  not  dreams." 

"  What  are,"  replied  the  locksmith,  "  if  they  are 
not  ?  " 

"  I  dreamed,"  said  Barnaby,  passing  his  arm 
through  Varden's  and  peering  close  into  his  face 
as  he  answered  m  a  whisper,  "  I  dreamed  just  now 
that  something  —  it  was  in  the  shape  of  a  man  — 
followed  me  —  came  softly  after  me  —  wouldn't  let 
me  be  —  but  was  always  hiding  and  crouching  like 
a  cat  in  dark  corners,  waiting  till  I  should  pass ; 
when  it  crept  out  and  came  softly  after  me.  —  Did 
you  ever  see  me  run  ?  " 

"  Many  a  time,  you  know." 

"  You  never  saw  me  run  as  I  did  in  this  dream. 
Still  it  came  creeping  on  to  worry  me.  Nearer, 
nearer,  nearer — I  ran  faster  —  leaped  —  sprung  out 
of  bed,  and  to  the  window  —  and  there,  in  the  street 

below But   he   is  waiting   for  us.     Are   you 

coming  ?  " 

"  What  in  the  street  below,  Barnaby  ? "  said 
Varden,  imagining  that  he  traced  some  connection 
between  this  vision  and  what  had  actually  occurred. 

Barnaby  looked  into  his  face,  muttered  inco- 
herently, waved  the  light  above  his  head  again, 
laughed,   and   drawing   the    locksmith's   arm   more 


74  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

tiglitly  tlirough  his  own,  led  him  up  the  stairs  in 
silence. 

They  entered  a  homely  bedchamber,  garnished  in 
a  scanty  way  with  chairs  whose  spindle-shanks 
bespoke  their  age,  and  other  furniture  of  very  little 
worth ;  but  clean  and  neatly  kept.  Eeclining  in 
an  easy-chair  before  the  fire,  pale  and  weak  from 
waste  of  blood,  was  Edward  Chester,  the  young 
gentleman  who  had  been  the  first  to  quit  the  JMay- 
pole  on  the  previous  night,  and  who,  extending  his 
hand  to  the  locksmith,  welcomed  him  as  LI.  pre- 
server and  friend. 

"Say  no  more,  sir,  say  no  more,"  said  Gabriel. 
"  I  hope  I  would  have  done  at  least  as  much  for  any 
man  in  such  a  strait,  and  most  of  all  for  you,  sir. 
A  certain  young  lady,"  he  added  with  some  hesita- 
tion, "  has  done  us  many  a  kind  turn,  and  we  natu- 
rally feel  —  I  hope  I  give  you  no  offence  in  saying 
this,  sir  ?  " 

The  young  man  smiled  and  shook  his  head;  at 
the  same  time  moving  in  his  chair  as  if  in  pain. 

"It's  no  great  matter,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  the 
locksmith's  sympathizing  look,  "  a  mere  uneasiness, 
arising  at  least  as  much  from  being  cooped  up  here 
as  from  the  slight  wound  I  have,  or  from  the  loss 
of  blood.     Be  seated,  Mr.  Varden." 

"  If  I  may  make  so  bold,  Mr.  Edward,  as  to  lean 
upon  your  chair,"  returned  the  locksmith,  accommo- 
dating his  action  to  his  speech,  and  bending  over 
him,  "  I'll  stand  here,  for  the  convenience  of  speak- 
ing low.  Barnaby  is  not  in  his  quietest  humor  to- 
night, and  at  such  times  talking  never  does  him 
good." 

They  both  glanced  at  the  subject  of  this  remark, 


MiW/ 


BARNABY   KUDGE.  75 

who  had  taken  a  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire, 
and,  smiling  vacantly,  was  making  puzzles  on  his 
fingers  with  a  skein  of  string. 

"Pray  tell  me,  sir,"  said  Varden,  dropping  his 
voice  still  lower,  "  exactly  what  happened  last  night. 
I  have  my  reason  for  inquiring.  You  left  the  May- 
pole alone  ?  " 

<'  And  walked  homeward  alone  until  I  had  nearly 
reached  the  place  where  you  found  me,  when  I  heard 
the  gallop  of  a  horse." 

"  Behind  you  ?  "  said  the  locksmith. 

"  Indeed,  yes  —  behind  me.  It  was  a  single  rider, 
who  soon  overtook  me,  and  checking  his  horse, 
inquired  the  way  to  London." 

"  You  were  on  the  alert,  sir,  knowing  how  many 
highwaymen  there  are  scouring  the  roads  in  all 
directions  ?  "  said  Varden. 

"  I  was,  but  I  had  only  a  stick,  having  impru- 
dently left  my  pistols  in  their  holster  case  with  the 
landlord's  son.  I  directed  him  as  he  desired.  Be- 
fore the  words  had  passed  my  lips,  he  rode  upon  me 
furiously,  as  if  bent  on  trampling  me  down  beneath 
his  horse's  hoofs.  In  starting  aside,  I  slipped  and 
fell.  You  found  me  with  this  stab  and  an  ugly 
bruise  or  two,  and  without  my  purse  —  in  which  he 
found  little  enough  for  his  pains.  And  now,  Mr. 
Varden,"  he  added,  shaking  the  locksmith  by  the 
hand,  "  saving  the  extent  of  my  gratitude  to  you, 
you  know  as  much  as  I." 

"  Except,"  said  Gabriel,  bending  down  yet  more, 
and  looking  cautiously  towards  their  silent  neighbor, 
"except  in  respect  of  the  robber  himself.  What 
like  was  he,  sir  ?  Speak  low,  if  you  please.  Bar- 
naby   means   no   harm,   but   I   have   watched    him 


76  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

oftener  than  you,  and  I  know,  little  as  you  would 
think  it,  that  he's  listening  now." 

It  required  a  strong  confidence  in  the  locksmith's 
veracity  to  lead  any  one  to  this  belief,  for  every 
sense  and  faculty  that  Barnaby  possessed  seemed  to 
be  fixed  upon  his  game,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
things.  Something  in  the  young  man's  face  ex- 
pressed this  opinion,  for  Gabriel  repeated  what  he 
had  just  said,  more  earnestly  than  before,  and,  with 
another  glance  towards  Barnaby,  again  asked  what 
like  the  man  was. 

"The  night  was  so  dark,"  said  Edward,  ''the 
attack  so  sudden,  and  he  so  wrapped  and  muffled  up, 
that  I  can  hardly  say.     It  seems  that  —  " 

"Don't  mention  his  name,  sir,"  returned  the 
locksmith,  following  his  look  towards  Barnaby; 
"  I  know  he  saw  him.  I  want  to  know  what  you 
saw." 

"  All  I  remember  is,"  said  Edward,  "  that  as  he 
checked  his  horse  his  hat  was  blown  off.  He  caught 
it  and  replaced  it  on  his  head,  which  I  observed  was 
bound  with  a  dark  handkerchief.  A  stranger  entered 
the  Maypole  while  I  was  there,  whom  I  had  not 
seen  —  for  I  sat  apart  for  reasons  of  my  own  —  and 
when  I  rose  to  leave  the  room  and  glanced  round,  he 
was  in  the  shadow  of  the  chimney,  and  hidden  from 
my  sight.  But  if  he  and  the  robber  were  two  differ- 
ent persons,  their  voices  were  strangely  and  most 
remarkably  alike ;  for  directly  the  man  addressed 
me  in  the  road,  I  recognized  his  speech  again." 

"It  is  as  I  feared.  The  very  man  was  here  to- 
night," thought  the  locksmith,  changing  color. 
"  What  dark  history  is  this  ?  " 

"  Halloa !  "  cried  a  hoarse  voice  in  his  ear.     "  Hal- 


BARNABY   KUDGE.  77 

loa,  halloa,  halloa!  Bow,  wow,  wow.  What's  the 
matter  here  ?     Halloa ! " 

The  speaker  —  who  made  the  locksmith  start  as 
if  he  had  seen  some  supernatural  agent  —  was  a 
large  raven,  who  had  perched  upon  the  top  of  the 
easy-chair,  unseen  by  him  and  Edward,  and  listened 
with  a  polite  attention,  and  a  most  extraordinary 
appearance  of  comprehending  every  word,  to  all 
they  had  said  up  to  this  point ;  turning  his  head 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  if  his  office  were  to  judge 
between  them,  and  it  were  of  the  very  last  impor- 
tance that  he  should  not  lose  a  word. 

"  Look  at  him ! "  said  Varden,  divided  between 
admiration  of  the  bird  and  a  kind  of  fear  of  him. 
"  Was  there  ever  such  a  knowing  imp  as  that  ?  Oh, 
he's  a  dreadful  fellow  !  " 

The  raven,  with  his  head  very  much  on  one  side, 
and  his  bright  eye  shining  like  a  diamond,  preserved 
a  thoughtful  silence  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then 
replied  in  a  voice  so  hoarse  and  distant,  that  it 
seemed  to  come  through  his  thick  feathers  rather 
than  out  of  his  mouth,  — 

"  Halloa,  halloa,  halloa  !  Wliat's  the  matter  here  ? 
Keep  up  your  spirits.  Never  say  die.  Bow,  wow, 
wow.  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil.  Hur- 
rah ! "  —  And  then,  as  if  exulting  in  his  infernal 
character,  he  began  to  whistle. 

"I  more  than  half  believe  he  speaks  the  truth. 
Upon  my  word  I  do,"  said  Varden.  "  Do  you  see 
how  he  looks  at  me,  as  if  he  knew  what  I  was 
saying  ?  " 

To  which  the  bird,  balancing  himself  on  tiptoe, 
as  it  were,  and  moving  his  body  up  and  down  in  a 
sort  of  grave  dance,  rejoined,  "  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a 


78  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

devil,  I'm  a  devil,"  and  flapped  his  wings  against 
his  sides  as  if  he  were  bursting  with  laughter. 
Barnaby  clapped  his  hands,  and  fairly  rolled  upon 
the  ground  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

''Strange  companions,  sir,"  said  the  locksmith, 
shaking  his  head,  and  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 
"  The  bird  has  all  the  wit," 

"  Strange  indeed ! "  said  Edward,  holding  out  his 
forefinger  to  the  raven,  who,  in  acknowledgment  of 
the  attention,  made  a  dive  at  it  immediately  with 
his  iron  bill.     "  Is  he  old  ?  " 

''A  mere  boy,  sir,"  replied  the  locksmith.  "A 
hundred  and  twenty,  or  thereabouts.  Call  him 
down,  Barnaby,  my  man." 

"  Call  him ! "  echoed  Barnaby,  sitting  upright 
upon  the  floor,  and  staring  vacantly  at  Gabriel,  as 
he  thrust  his  hair  back  from  his  face.  "  But  who 
can  make  him  come  ?  He  calls  me,  and  makes  me 
go  where  he  will.  He  goes  on  before,  and  I  follow. 
He's  the  master,  and  I'm  the  man.  Is  that  the 
truth.  Grip  ?  " 

The  raven  gave  a  short,  comfortable,  confidential 
kind  of  croak  —  a  most  expressive  croak,  which 
seemed  to  say,  "  You  needn't  let  these  fellows  into 
our  secrets.  We  understand  each  other.  It's  all 
right." 

"  I  make  him  come  ! "  cried  Barnaby,  pointing  to 
the  bird.  "Him,  who  never  goes  to  sleep,  or  so 
much  as  winks  !  —  Why,  any  time  of  night,  you  may 
see  his  eyes  in  my  dark  room,  shining  like  two 
sparks.  And  every  night,  and  all  night  too,  he's 
broad  awake,  talking  to  himself,  thinking  what  he 
shall  do  to-morrow,  where  we  shall  go,  and  what  he 
shall  steal,  and  hide,  and  bury.  I  make  him  come ! 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  79 

On  second  thonglits,  the  bird  appeared  disposed 
to  come  of  himself.  After  a  short  survey  of  the 
ground,  and  a  few  sidelong  looks  at  the  ceiling  and 
at  everybody  present  in  turn,  he  fluttered  to  the 
floor,  and  went  to  Barnaby  —  not  in  a  hop,  or  walk, 
or  run,  but  in  a  pace  like  that  of  a  very  particular 
gentleman  with  exceedingly  tight  boots  on,  trying 
to  walk  fast  over  loose  pebbles.  Then,  stepping 
into  his  extended  hand,  and  condescending  to  be 
held  out  at  arm's-length,  he  gave  vent  to  a  succes- 
sion of  sounds,  not  unlike  the  drawing  of  some 
eight  or  ten  dozen  of  long  corks,  and  again  asserted 
his  brimstone  birth  and  parentage  with  great  dis- 
tinctness. 

The  locksmith  shook  his  head  —  perhaps  in  some 
doubt  of  the  creature's  being  really  nothing  but  a 
bird  —  perhaps  in  pity  for  Barnaby,  who  by  this 
time  had  him  in  his  arms,  and  was  rolling  about 
with  him  on  the  ground.  As  he  raised  his  eyes 
from  the  poor  fellow,  he  encountered  those  of  his 
mother,  who  had  entered  the  room,  and  was  looking 
on  in  silence. 

She  was  quite  white  in  the  face,  even  to  her  lips, 
but  had  wholly  subdued  her  emotion,  and  wore  her 
usual  quiet  look.  Varden  fancied  as  he  glanced  at 
her  that  she  shrunk  from  his  eye ;  and  that  she 
busied  herself  about  the  wounded  gentleman  to 
avoid  him  the  better. 

It  was  time  he  went  to  bed,  she  said.  He  was  to 
be  removed  to  his  own  home  on  the  morrow,  and  he 
had  already  exceeded  his  time  for  sitting  up  by  a 
full  hour.  Acting  on  this  hint,  the  locksmith  pre- 
pared to  take  his  leave. 

"  By  the  by,"  said  Edward  as  he  shook  him  by 


80  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

the  hand,  and  looked  from  him  to  Mrs.  Rudge  and 
back  again,  "  what  noise  was  that  below  ?  I  heard 
your  voice  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  should  have  in- 
quired before,  but  our  other  conversation  drove  it 
from  my  memory.     What  was  it  ?  " 

The  locksmith  looked  towards  her,  and  bit  his 
lip.  She  leant  against  the  chair,  and  bent  her  eyes 
upon  the  ground.     Barnaby  too  —  he  was  listening. 

"  Some  mad  or  drunken  fellow,  sir,"  Varden  at 
length  made  answer,  looking  steadily  at  the  widow 
as  he  spoke.  "  He  mistook  the  house,  and  tried  to 
force  an  entrance." 

She  breathed  more  freely,  but  stood  quite  motion- 
less. As  the  locksmith  said  "  Good-night,"  and  Bar- 
naby caught  up  the  candle  to  light  him  down  the 
stairs,  she  took  it  from  him,  and  charged  him  — 
with  more  haste  and  earnestness  than  so  slight  an 
occasion  appeared  to  warrant  —  not  to  stir.  The 
raven  followed  them  to  satisfy  himself  that  all  was 
right  below,  and  when  they  reached  the  street-door, 
stood  on  the  bottom  stair  drawing  corks  out  of 
number. 

With  a  trembling  hand  she  unfastened  the  chain 
and  bolts  and  turned  the  key.  As  she  had  her  hand 
upon  the  latch,  the  locksmith  said  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  I  have  told  a  lie  to-night  for  your  sake,  Mary, 
and  for  the  sake  of  bygone  times  and  old  acquaint- 
ance, when  I  would  scorn  to  do  so  for  my  own.  I 
hope  I  may  have  done  no  harm,  or  led  to  none.  I 
can't  help  the  suspicions  you  have  forced  upon  me, 
and  I  am  loath,  I  tell  you  plainly,  to  leave  Mr. 
Edward  here.  Take  care  he  comes  to  no  hurt.  I 
doubt  the  safety  of  this  roof,  and  am  glad  he  leaves 
it  so  soon.     Xow  let  me  go." 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  81 

For  a  moment  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  and 
wept ;  but,  resisting  the  strong  impulse  which  evi- 
dently moved  her  to  reply,  opened  the  door  —  no 
wider  than  was  sufficient  for  the  passage  of  his 
body  —  and  motioned  him  away.  As  the  locksmith 
stood  upon  the  step,  it  was  chained  and  locked  be- 
hind him,  and  the  raven,  in  furtherance  of  these  pre- 
cautions, barked  like  a  lusty  house-dog. 

*'  In  league  with  that  ill-looking  figure  that  might 
have  fallen  from  a  gibbet  —  he  listening  and  hiding 
here  —  Barnaby  first  upon  the  spot  last  night  —  can 
she  who  has  always  borne  so  fair  a  name  be  guilty 
of  such  crimes  in  secret  ?  "  said  the  locksmith,  mus- 
ing. "  Heaven  forgive  me  if  I  am  wrong,  and  send 
me  just  thoughts ;  but  she  is  poor,  the  temptation 
may  be  great,  and  we  daily  hear  of  things  as  strange. 
— Ay,  bark  away,  my  friend.  If  there's  any  wicked- 
ness going  on,  that  raven's  in  it,  I'll  be  sworn." 

VOL.  I.-6. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Mrs.  Varden  was  a  lady  of  what  is  commonly 
called  an  uncertain  temper  —  a  phrase  which,  being 
interpreted,  signifies  a  temper  tolerably  certain  to 
make  everybody  more  or  less  uncomfortable.  Thus 
it  generally  happened  that  when  other  people  were 
merry,  Mrs.  Varden  was  dull :  and  that  when  other 
people  were  dull,  Mrs.  Varden  was  disposed  to  be 
amazingly  cheerful.  Indeed,  the  worthy  housewife 
was  of  such  a  capricious  nature,  that  she  not  only 
attained  a  higher  pitch  of  genius  than  Macbeth,  in 
respect  of  her  ability  to  be  wise,  amazed,  temperate 
and  furious,  loyal  and  neutral  in  an  instant,  but 
would  sometimes  ring  the  changes  backwards  and 
forwards  on  all  possible  moods  and  flights  in  one 
short  quarter  of  an  hour ;  performing,  as  it  were,  a 
kind  of  triple  bob  major  on  the  peal  of  instruments 
in  the  female  belfry,  with  a  skilfuluess  and  rapidity 
of  execution  that  astonished  all  who  heard  her. 

It  had  been  observed  in  this  good  lady  (who  did 
not  want  for  personal  attractions,  being  plump  and 
buxom  to  look  at,  though,  like  her  fair  daughter, 
somewhat  short  in  stature)  that  this  uncertainty  of 
disposition  strengthened  and  increased  with  her 
temporal  prosperity ;  and  divers  wise  men  and 
matrons  on  friendly  terms  with  the  locksmith  and 
82 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  83 

his  family  even  went  so  far  as  to  assert,  that  a 
tumble  down  some  half-dozen  rounds  in  the  world's 
ladder  —  such  as  the  breaking  of  the  bank  in  which 
her  husband  kept  his  money,  or  some  little  fall  of 
that  kind — would  be  the  making  of  her,  and  could 
hardly  fail  to  render  her  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
companions  in  existence.  Whether  they  were  right 
or  wrong  in  this  conjecture,  certain  it  is  that  minds, 
like  bodies,  will  often  fall  into  a  pimpled,  ill-condi- 
tioned state  from  mere  excess  of  comfort,  and,  like 
them,  are  often  successfully  cured  by  remedies  in 
themselves  very  nauseous  and  unpalatable. 

Mrs.  Varden's  chief  aider  and  abettor,  and  at  the 
same  time  her  principal  victim  and  object  of  wrath, 
was  her  single  domestic  servant,  one  Miss  Miggs  ; 
or,  as  she  was  called,  in  conformity  with  those  preju- 
dices of  society  which  lop  and  top  from  poor  hand- 
maidens all  such  genteel  excrescences  —  Miggs. 
This  Miggs  was  a  tall  young  lady,  verj--  much  ad- 
dicted to  pattens  in  private  life;  slender  and 
shrewish,  of  a  rather  uncomfortable  figure,  and, 
though  not  absolutely  ill-looking,  of  a  sharp  and 
acid  visage.  As  a  general  principle  and  abstract 
proposition,  Miggs  held  the  male  sex  to  be  utterly 
contemptible  and  unworthy  of  notice ;  to  be  fickle, 
false,  base,  sottish,  inclined  to  perjury  and  wholly 
undeserving.  When  particularly  exasperated  against 
them  (which,  scandal  said,  was  when  Sim  Tappertit 
slighted  her  most),  she  was  accustomed  to  v/ish  with 
great  emphasis  that  the  whole  race  of  women  could 
but  die  off,  in  order  that  the  men  might  be  brought 
to  know  the  real  value  of  the  blessings  by  which 
they  set  so  little  store;  nay,  her  feeling  for  her 
order  ran  so  high,  that  she  sometimes  declared,  if 


84  BAKNABY   IIUDGE. 

she  could  only  have  good  security  for  a  fair,  round 
number  —  say  ten  thousand  —  of  young  virgins  fol- 
lowing her  example,  she  would,  to  spite  mankind, 
hang,  drown,  stab,  or  poison  herself,  with  a  joy  past 
all  expression. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Miggs  that  greeted  the  lock- 
smith, when  he  knocked  at  his  own  house,  with  a 
shrill  cry  of  "  Who's  there  ?  " 

"Me,  girl,  me,"  returned  Gabriel. 

"  What,  already,  sir ! "  said  Miggs,  with  a  look  of 
surprise.  ''  We  was  just  getting  on  our  nightcaps 
to  sit  up  —  me  and  mistress.  Oh,  she  has  been  so 
bad ! " 

Miggs  said  this  with  an  air  of  uncommon  candor 
and  concern  ;  but  the  parlor-door  was  standing  open, 
and,  as  Gabriel  very  well  knew  for  whose  ears  it  was 
designed,  he  regarded  her  with  anything  but  an 
approving  look  as  he  passed  in. 

"Master's  come  home,  mim,"  cried  Miggs,  running 
before  him  into  the  parlor.  "  You  was  wrong,  mim, 
and  I  was  right.  I  thought  he  wouldn't  keep  us  up 
so  late  two  nights  running,  mim.  Master's  always 
considerate  so  far.  I'm  so  glad,  mim,  on  your  ac- 
count. I'm  a  little  "  —  here  Miggs  simpered  —  "a 
little  sleepy  mj^self ;  I'll  own  it  now,  mim,  though 
I  said  I  wasn't  when  you  asked  me.  It  ain't  of  no 
consequence,  mim,  of  course." 

"  You  had  better,"  said  the  locksmith,  who  most 
devoutly  wished  that  Barnaby's  raven  was  at 
Miggs's  ankles,  "you  had  better  get  to  bed  at  once 
then." 

"  Thanking  you  kindly,  sir,"  returned  Miggs,  "  I 
couldn't  take  my  rest  in  peace,  nor  lix  my  thoughts 
upon  my  prayers,  otherways  than  that  I  knew  mis- 


BAKXABY   BUDGE.  85 

tress  was  comfortable  in  her  bed  this  night;  by 
rights  she  should  have  been  there  hours  ago." 

"  You're  talkative,  mistress,"  said  Varden,  pulling 
off  his  great-coat,  and  looking  at  her  askew. 

"  Taking  the  hint,  sir,"  cried  Miggs,  with  a  flushed 
face,  "  and  thanking  you  for  it  most  kindly,  I  will 
make  bold  to  say,  that  if  I  give  offence  by  having 
consideration  for  my  mistress,  I  do  not  ask  your 
pardon,  but  am  content  to  get  myself  into  trouble 
and  to  be  in  suffering." 

Here  Mrs.  Varden,  who,  with  her  countenance 
shrouded  in  a  large  nightcap,  had  been  all  this  time 
intent  upon  the  Protestant  Manual,  looked  round, 
and  acknowledged  Miggs's  championship  by  com- 
manding her  to  hold  her  tongue. 

Every  little  bone  in  Miggs's  throat  and  neck 
developed  itself  with  a  spitefulness  quite  alarming, 
as  she  replied,  "Yes,  mim,  I  will." 

"  How  do  you  find  yourself  now,  my  dear  ? " 
said  the  locksmith,  taking  a  chair  near  his  wife  (who 
had  resumed  her  book),  and  rubbing  his  knees  hard 
as  he  made  the  inquiry. 

"  You're  very  anxious  to  know,  ain't  you  ? " 
returned  Mrs.  Varden,  with  her  eyes  upon  the  print. 
"  You,  that  have  not  been  near  me  all  day,  and 
wouldn't  have  been  if  I  was  dying  !  " 

"My  dear  Martha  —  "  said  Gabriel. 

Mrs.  Varden  turned  over  to  the  next  page ;  then 
went  back  again  to  the  bottom  line  overleaf  to  be 
quite  sure  of  the  last  words,  and  then  went  on  read- 
ing with  an  appearance  of  the  deepest  interest  and 
study. 

"  My  dear  Martha,"  said  the  locksmith,  "  how  can 
you  say  such  things,  when  you  know  you  don't  mean 


86  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

them  ?  If  you  were  dying !  Why,  if  there  was 
anything  serious  the  matter  with  you,  Martha, 
shoukhi't  I  be  in  constant  attendance  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ! "  cried  Mrs.  Varden,  bursting  into  tears, 
"yes,  you  would.  I  don't  doubt  it,  Yarden.  Cer- 
tainly you  would.  That's  as  much  as  to  tell  me 
that  you  would  be  hovering  round  me  like  a  vulture, 
waiting  till  the  breath  Avas  out  of  my  body,  that  you 
might  go  and  marry  somebody  else." 

Miggs  groaned  in  sympathy  —  a  little  short  groan, 
checked  in  its  birth,  and  changed  into  a  cough.  It 
seemed  to  say,  "I  can't  help  it.  It's  wrung  from 
me  by  the  dreadful  brutality  of  that  monster 
master." 

"  But  you'll  break  my  heart  one  of  these  days," 
added  Mrs.  Yarden  with  more  resignation,  "  and 
then  we  shall  both  be  happy.  My  only  desire  is  to 
see  Dolly  comfortably  settled,  and  when  she  is  you 
may  settle  me  as  soon  as  you  like." 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  Miggs  —  and  coughed  again. 

Poor  Gabriel  twisted  his  wig  about  in  silence  for 
a  long  time,  and  then  said  mildly,  "  Has  Dolly  gone 
to  bed  ?  " 

"  Your  master  speaks  to  you,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden, 
looking  sternly  over  her  shoulder  at  Miss  Miggs  in 
waiting. 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  spoke  to  j^ou,"  suggested  the 
locksmith. 

"  Did  you  hear  me,  Miggs  ?  "  cried  the  obdurate 
lady,  stamping  her  foot  upon  the  ground.  "  You  are 
beginning  to  despise  me  now,  are  you  ?  But  this  is 
example !  " 

At  this  cruel  rebuke,  Miggs,  whose  tears  were 
always   ready,  for  large   or  small   parties,  on   the 


BARNABY  RTTDGE.  87 

shortest  notice  and  the  most  reasonable  terms,  fell  a 
crying  violently  ;  holding  both  her  hands  tight  upon 
her  heart  meanwhile  ;  as  if  nothing  less  would  pre- 
vent its  splitting  into  small  fragments.  Mrs.  Var- 
den,  who  likewise  possessed  that  faculty  in  high 
perfection,  wept  too,  against  Miggs ;  and  with  such 
effect  that  Miggs  gave  in  after  a  time,  and  except  for 
an  occasional  sob,  which  seemed  to  threaten  some 
remote  intention  of  breaking  out  again,  left  her 
mistress  in  possession  of  the  held.  Her  superiority 
being  thoroughly  asserted,  that  lady  soon  desisted 
likewise,  and  fell  into  a  quiet  melancholy. 

The  relief  was  so  great,  and  the  fatiguing  occur- 
rences of  last  night  so  completely  overpowered  the 
locksmith,  that  he  nodded  in  his  chair,  and  would 
doubtless  have  slept  there  all  night,  but  for  the 
voice  of  Mrs.  Varden,  which,  after  a  pause  of  some 
five  minutes,  awoke  him  with  a  start. 

"  If  I  am  ever,"  said  Mrs.  V.  —  not  scolding,  but 
in  a  sort  of  monotonous  remonstrance  —  "  in  spirits, 
if  I  am  ever  cheerful,  if  I  am  ever  more  than 
usually  disposed  to  be  talkative  and  comfortable, 
this  is  the  way  I  am  treated." 

"  Such  spirits  as  you  was  in  too,  mim,  but  half 
an  hour  ago ! "  cried  Miggs.  "  I  never  see  such 
company  !  " 

"Because,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  <' because  I  never 
interfere  or  interrupt,  because  I  never  question 
where  anybody  comes  or  goes  ;  because  my  whole 
mind  and  soul  is  bent  on  saving  where  I  can  save, 
and  laboring  in  this  house  —  therefore,  they  try  me 
as  they  do." 

"Martha,"  urged  the  locksmith,  endeavoring  to 
look  as  wakeful  as  possible,  "  what  is  it  you  com- 


88  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

plain  of  ?  I  really  came  home  with  every  wish  and 
desire  to  be  happy.     I  did,  indeed." 

"  What  do  I  complain  of  ? "  retorted  his  wife. 
"  Is  it  a  chilling  thing  to  have  one's  husband  sulk- 
ing and  falling  asleep  directly  he  comes  home  —  to 
have  him  freezing  all  one's  warm-heartedness,  and 
throwing  cold  water  over  the  fireside  ?  Is  it  natural, 
when  I  know  he  went  out  upon  a  matter  in  which  I 
am  as  much  interested  as  anybody  can  be,  that  I 
should  wish  to  know  all  that  has  happened,  or  that 
he  should  tell  me  without  my  begging  and  praying 
him  to  do  it  ?     Is  that  natural,  or  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  I  am  ver}^  sorry,  jMartha,"  said  the  good-natured 
locksmith.  '*  I  was  really  afraid  you  were  not  dis- 
posed to  talk  pleasantly ;  I'll  tell  you  everything ;  I 
shall  only  be  too  glad,  my  dear." 

"  No,  Varden,"  returned  his  wife,  rising  with  dig- 
nity. "  I  dare  say  —  thank  you  !  I'm  not  a  child 
to  be  corrected  one  minute  and  petted  the  next  — 
I'm  a  little  too  old  for  that,  Varden.  Miggs,  carry 
the  light.      You  can  be  cheerful,  JNIiggs,  at  least." 

Miggs,  who,  to  this  moment,  had  been  in  the  very 
depths  of  compassionate  despondency,  passed  in- 
stantly into  the  liveliest  state  conceivable,  and  toss- 
ing her  head  as  she  glanced  towards  the  locksmith, 
bore  off  her  mistress  and  tlie  light  together. 

"  Now,  who  would  think,"  thought  Varden,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders  and  drawing  his  chair  nearer  to 
the  fire,  "that  that  woman  could  ever  be  pleasant 
and  agreeable  ?  And  yet  she  can  be.  Well,  well, 
all  of  us  have  our  faults.  I'll  not  be  hard  upon 
hers.  We  have  been  man  and  wife  too  long  for 
that." 

He  dozed  again  —  not  the  less  pleasantly,  perhaps, 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  89 

for  his  hearty  temper.  While  his  eyes  were  closed, 
the  door  leading  to  the  upper  stairs  was  partially 
opened ;  and  a  head  appeared,  which,  at  sight  of 
him,  hastily  drew  back  again. 

"  I  wish,"  murmured  Gabriel,  waking  at  the  noise, 
and  looking  round  the  room,  "  I  wish  somebody 
would  marry  Miggs.  Bvit  that's  impossible !  I 
wonder  whether  there's  any  madman  alive  who 
would  marry  Miggs  ! " 

This  was  such  a  vast  speculation  that  he  fell  into 
a  doze  again,  and  slept  until  the  fire  was  quite  burnt 
out.  At  last  he  roused  himself ;  and  having 
double-locked  the  street-door  according  to  custom, 
and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket,  went  off  to  bed. 

He  had  not  left  the  room  in  darkness  many  min- 
utes, when  the  head  again  appeared,  and  Sim  Tap- 
pertit  entered,  bearing  in  his  hand  a  little  lamp. 

"  What  the  devil  business  has  he  to  stop  up  so 
late  ? "  muttered  Sim,  passing  into  the  workshop, 
and  setting  it  down  upon  the  forge.  "  Here's  half 
the  night  gone  already.  There's  only  one  good  that 
has  ever  come  to  me  out  of  this  cursed  old  rusty 
mechanical  trade,  and  that's  this  piece  of  ironmong- 
ery, upon  my  soul !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  from  the  right  hand,  or 
rather  right  leg  pocket  of  his  smalls  a  clumsy  large- 
sized  key,  which  he  inserted  cautiously  in  the  lock 
his  master  had  secured,  and  softly  opened  the  door. 
That  done,  he  replaced  his  piece  of  secret  workman- 
ship in  his  pocket ;  and  leaving  the  lamp  burning, 
and  closing  the  door  carefully  and  without  noise, 
stole  out  into  the  street  —  as  little  suspected  by  the 
locksmith,  in  his  sound  deep  sleep,  as  by  Barnaby 
himself  in  his  phantom-haunted  dreams. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Clear  of  the  locksmith's  house,  Sim  Tappertit 
laid  aside  his  cautious  manner,  and  assuming  in  its 
stead  that  of  a  ruffling,  swaggering,  rovino-  blade 
who  would  rather  kill  a  man  than  otherwise,  and 
eat  him  too  if  needful,  made  the  best  of  his  way 
along  the  darkened  streets. 

Half  pausing  for  an  instant  now  and  then  to 
smite  his  pocket  and  assure  himself  of  the  safety 
of  his  master  key,  he  hurried  on  to  Barbican,  and 
turning  into  one  of  the  narrowest  of  the  narrow 
streets  Avhich  diverged  from  that  centre,  slackened 
his  pace  and  wiped  his  heated  brow,  as  if  the  ter- 
mination of  his  walk  were  near  at  hand. 

It  was  not  a  very  choice  spot  for  midnight  expe- 
ditions, being  in  truth  one  of  more  than  question- 
able character,  and  of  an  appearance  by  no  means 
inviting.  From  the  main  street  he  had  entered,  itself 
little  better  than  an  alley,  a  low-browed  doorway  I'^d 
into  a  blind  court  or  yard,  profoundly  dark,  unpaved, 
and  reeking  with  stagnant  odors.  Into  this  ill-fav- 
ored pit  the  locksmith's  vagrant  'prentice  groped  his 
way ;  and  stopping  at  a  house  from  whose  defaced 
and  rotten  front  the  rude  effigy  of  a  bottle  swuno- 
to  and  fro  like  some  gibbeted  malefactor,  struck 
thrice  upon  an  iron  grating  with  his  foot.  After 
90 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  91 

listening  in  vain  for  some  response  to  his  signal,  ^Ir. 
Tappertit  became  impatient,  and  struck  the  grating 
thrice  again, 

A  further  delay  ensued,  but  it  was  not  of  long 
duration.  The  ground  seemed  to  open  at  his  feet, 
and  a  ragged  head  appeared. 

"  Is  that  the  captain  ?  "  said  a  voice  as  ragged  as 
the  head. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Tappertit  haughtily,  descend- 
ing as  he  spoke,  "  who  should  it  be  ?  " 

"  It's  so  late,  we  gave  you  up,"  returned  the  voice, 
as  its  owner  stopped  to  shut  and  fasten  the  grating. 
"You're  late,  sir." 

"Lead  on,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  with  a  gloomy 
majesty,  "  and  make  remarks  when  I  require  you. 
Forward !  " 

This  latter  word  of  command  was  perhaps  some- 
what theatrical  and  unnecessary,  inasmuch  as  the 
descent  was  by  a  very  narrow,  steep,  and  slippery 
flight  of  steps,  and  any  rashness  or  departure  from 
the  beaten  track  must  have  ended  in  a  yawning 
water-butt.  But  Mr.  Tappertit  being,  like  some 
other  great  commanders,  favorable  to  strong  effects 
and  personal  display,  cried  "  Forward ! "  again,  in 
the  hoarsest  voice  he  could  assume ;  and  led  the 
way,  with  folded  arms  and  knitted  brows,  to  the 
cellar  down  below,  where  there  Avas  a  small  copper 
fixed  in  one  corner,  a  chair  or  two,  a  form  and  table, 
a  glimmering  fire,  and  a  truckle-bed,  covered  with  a 
ragged  patcliwork  rug. 

"  Welcome,  noble  captain ! "  cried  a  lanky  figure, 
rising  as  from  a  nap. 

The  captain  nodded.  Then,  throwing  off  his 
outer  coat,  he  stood  composed  in  all  his  dignity,  and 
eyed  his  follower  over. 


92  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

'•'  What  news  to-night  ?  "  he  asked,  when  he  had 
looked  into  his  very  souL 

"Nothing  particular,"  replied  the  other,  stretch- 
ing himself  —  and  he  was  so  long  already  that  it  was 
quite  alarming  to  see  him  do  it.  "  How  come  you 
to  be  so  late  ?  " 

'*'Xo  matter,"  was  all  the  captain  deigned  to  say 
in  answer.     "  Is  the  room  prepared  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  replied  his  follower. 

"  The  comrade  —  is  he  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  a  sprinkling  of  the  others  —  you 
hear  'em  ?  " 

"'Playing  skittles!"  said  the  captain  moodily. 
"  Light-hearted  revellers  !  " 

There  was  no  doubt  respecting  the  particular 
amusement  in  which  these  heedless  spirits  were 
indulging,  for  even  in  the  close  and  stifling  atmos- 
phere of  the  vault,  the  noise  sounded  like  distant 
thunder.  It  certainly  appeared,  at  first  sight,  a 
singular  spot  to  choose,  for  that  or  any  other  pur- 
pose of  relaxation,  if  the  other  cellars  answered  to 
the  one  in  which  this  brief  colloquy  took  place ;  for 
the  floors  were  of  sodden  earth,  the  walls  and  roof 
of  damp  bare  brick  tapestried  with  the  tracks  of 
snails  and  slugs ;  the  air  was  sickening,  tainted,  and 
offensive.  It  seemed,  from  one  strong  flavor  which 
was  uppermost  among  the  various  odors  of  the 
place,  that  it  had,  at  no  very  distant  period,  been 
used  as  a  storehouse  for  cheeses  ;  a  circumstance 
which,  while  it  accounted  for  the  greasy  moisture 
that  hung  about  it,  was  agreeably  suggestive  of  rats. 
It  was  naturally  damp  besides,  and  little  trees  of 
fungus  sprung  from  every  mouldering  corner. 

The    proprietor   of    this   charming   retreat,    and 


BAENABY  RUDGE.  93 

owner  of  the  ragged  head  before  mentioned  —  for 
he  wore  an  old  tie-wig  as  bare  and  frowzy  as  a 
stunted  hearth-broom — had  by  this  time  joined 
them ;  and  stood  a  little  apart,  rubbing  his  hands, 
wagging  his  hoary  bristled  chin,  and  smiling  in 
silence.  His  eyes  were  closed ;  but  had  they  been 
wide  open,  it  would  have  been  easy  to  tell,  from  the 
attentive  expression  of  the  face  he  turned  towards 
them  —  pale  and  unwholesome,  as  might  be  expected, 
in  one  of  his  underground  existence  —  and  from  a 
certain  anxious  raising  and  quivering  of  the  lids, 
that  he  was  blind. 

"Even  Stagg  hath  been  asleep,"  said  the  long 
comrade,  nodding  towards  this  person. 

"  Sound,  captain,  sound ! "  cried  the  blind  man. 
"  What  does  my  noble  captain  drink  —  is  it  brandy, 
rum,  usquebagh  ?  Is  it  soaked  gunpowder,  or  blaz- 
ing oil  ?  Give  it  a  name,  heart  of  oak,  and  we'd 
get  it  for  you,  if  it  was  wine  from  a  bishop's  cellar, 
or  melted  gold  from  King  George's  mint." 

''  See,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  haughtily,  "  that  it's 
something  strong,  and  comes  quick  ;  and  so  long  as 
you  take  care  of  that,  you  may  bring  it  from  the 
devil's  cellar,  if  you  like." 

"  Boldly  said,  noble  captain  !  "  rejoined  the  blind 
man.  "  Spoken  like  the  'Prentices'  Glory  !  Ha,  ha ! 
From  the  devil's  cellar  !  A  brave  joke  !  The  cap- 
tain joketh  !     Ha,  ha,  ha !  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  my  fine  feller,"  said  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit, eying  the  host  over  as  he  walked  to  a  closet, 
and  took  out  a  bottle  and  glass  as  carelessly  as  if  he 
had  been  in  full  possession  of  his  sight,  "if  you 
make  that  row,  you'll  find  that  the  captain's  very 
far  from  joking,  and  so  I  tell  you." 


94  BAKNABY  BUDGE. 

"  He's  got  his  eyes  on  me  ! "  cried  Stagg,  stopping 
short  on  his  way  back,  and  affecting  to  screen  his 
face  with  the  bottle.  "  I  feel  'em,  though  I  can't 
see  'em.  Take  'em  off,  noble  captain.  Remove 
'em,  for  they  pierce  like  gimlets." 

Mr.  Tappertit  smiled  grimly  at  his  comrade,  and 
twisting  out  one  more  look  —  a  kind  of  ocular 
screw  —  under  the  influence  of  which  the  blind 
man  feigned  to  undergo  great  anguish  and  torture, 
bade  him,  in  a  softened  tone,  approach,  and  hold  his 
peace. 

"  I  obey  you,  captain,"  cried  Stagg,  drawing  close 
to  him  and  filling  out  a  bumper  without  spilling  a 
drop,  by  reason  that  he  held  his  little  finger  at  the 
brim  of  the  glass,  and  stopped  at  the  instant  the 
licxuor  touched  it ;  "  drink,  noble  governor.  Death 
to  all  masters,  life  to  all  'prentices,  and  love  to  all 
fair  damsels.  Drink,  brave  general,  and  warm  your 
gallant  heart ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit  condescended  to  take  the  glass 
from  his  outstretched  hand.  Stagg  then  dropped 
on  one  knee,  and  gently  smoothed  the  calves  of  his 
legs,  with  an  air  of  humble  admiration. 

"  That  I  had  but  eyes  ! "  he  cried,  "  to  behold  my 
captain's  symmetrical  proportions !  That  I  had  but 
eyes  to  look  upon  these  twin  invaders  of  domestic 
peace ! " 

"Get  out!"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  glancing  down- 
ward at  his  favorite  limbs.  "  Go  along,  will  you, 
Stagg  ?  " 

"  When  I  touch  my  own  afterwards,"  cried  the 
host,  smiting  them  reproachfully,  "I  hate  'em. 
Comparatively  speaking,  they've  no  more  shape 
than  wooden  legs  beside  these  models  of  my 
noble  captain's." 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  95 

"  Yours  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  No,  I 
should  think  not.  Don't  talk  about  those  pre- 
cious old  toothpicks  in  the  same  breath  with 
mine ;  that's  rather  too  much.  Here.  Take  the 
glass.     Benjamin.     Lead  on.     To  business ! " 

With  these  words,  he  folded  his  arms  again ;  and 
frowning  with  a  sullen  majesty,  passed  with  liis 
companion  through  a  little  door  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  cellar,  and  disappeared,  leaving  Stagg  to  his 
private  meditations. 

The  vault  they  entered,  strewn  with  sawdust 
and  dimly  lighted,  was  between  the  outer  one 
from  which  they  had  just  come,  and  that  in 
which  the  skittle  players  were  diverting  them- 
selves ;  as  was  manifested  by  the  increased  noise 
and  clamor  of  tongues,  which  was  suddenly  stopped, 
however,  and  replaced  by  a  dead  silence,  at  a  signal 
from  the  long  comrade.  Then,  this  young  gentle- 
man, going  to  a  little  cupboard,  returned  with  a 
thigh-bone,  which  in  former  times  must  have  been 
part  and  parcel  of  some  individual  at  least  as  long 
as  himself,  and  placed  the  same  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Tappertit;  who,  receiving  it  as  a  sceptre  and  staff 
of  authority,  cocked  his  three-cornered  hat  fiercely 
on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  mounted  a  large  table, 
whereupon  a  chair  of  state,  cheerfully  ornamented 
with  a  couple  of  skulls,  was  placed  ready  for  his 
reception. 

He  had  no  sooner  assumed  this  position  than 
another  young  gentleman  appeared,  bearing  in  his 
arms  a  huge  clasped  book,  who  made  him  a  profound 
obeisance,  and  delivering  it  to  the  long  comrade, 
advanced  to  the  table,  and  turning  his  back  upon  it, 
stood  there  Atlas-wise.     Then,  the  long  comrade  got 


96  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

upon  the  table  too ;  and  seating  himself  in  a  lower 
chair  than  Mr.  Tappertit's,  with  much  state  and 
ceremony,  placed  the  large  book  on  the  shoulders  of 
their  mute  companion  as  deliberately  as  if  he  had 
been  a  wooden  desk,  and  prepared  to  make  entries 
therein  with  a  pen  of  common  size. 

When  the  long  comrade  had  made  these  prepara- 
tions, he  looked  towards  Mr.  Tappertit;  and  Mr. 
Tappertit,  flourishing  the  bone,  knocked  nine  times 
therewith  upon  one  of  the  skulls.  At  the  ninth 
stroke,  a  third  young  gentleman  emerged  from  the 
door  leading  to  the  skittle-ground,  and  bowing  low, 
awaited  his  commands. 

"'Prentice ! "  said  the  mighty  captain,  "  who  waits 
without  ?  " 

The  'prentice  made  answer  that  a  stranger  was  in 
attendance,  who  claimed  admission  into  that  secret 
society  of  'Prentice  Knights,  and  a  free  participa- 
tion in  their  rights,  privileges,  and  immunities. 
Thereupon  Mr.  Tappertit  flourished  the  bone  again, 
and  giving  the  other  skull  a  prodigious  rap  on  the 
nose,  exclaimed,  "  Admit  him ! "  At  these  dread 
words  the  'prentice  bowed  once  more,  and  so  with- 
drew as  he  had  come. 

There  soon  appeared  at  the  same  door  two  other 
'prentices,  having  between  them  a  third,  whose  eyes 
were  bandaged,  and  who  was  attired  in  a  bag-wig, 
and  a  broad-skirted  coat,  trimmed  with  tarnished 
lace ;  and  who  was  girded  with  a  sword,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  laws  of  the  Institution  regulating 
the  introduction  of  candidates,  which  required  them 
to  assume  this  courtly  dress,  and  kept  it  constantly 
in  lavender,  for  their  convenience.  One  of  the 
conductors   of   this    novice   held   a  rusty   blunder- 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  97 

buss  pointed  towards  his  ear,  and  the  other  a  very- 
ancient  sabre,  with  which  he  carved  imaginary 
offenders  as  he  came  along  in  a  sanguinary  and 
anatomical  manner. 

As  this  silent  group  advanced,  Mr.  Tappertit  fixed 
his  hat  upon  his  head.  The  novice  then  laid  his 
hand  upon  his  breast,  and  bent  before  him.  When 
he  had  humbled  himself  sufficiently,  the  captain 
ordered  the  bandage  to  be  removed,  and  proceeded 
to  eye  him  over. 

"Ha!"  said  the  captain  thoughtfully,  when  he 
had  concluded  this  ordeal.     "  Proceed." 

The  long  comrade  read  aloud  as  follows  :  —  "  Mark 
Gilbert.  Age,  nineteen.  Bound  to  Thomas  Curzon, 
hosier,  Golden  Fleece,  Aldgate.  Loves  Curzon's 
daughter.  Cannot  say  that  Curzon's  daughter  loves 
him.  Should  think  it  probable.  Curzon  pulled  his 
ears  last  Tuesday  week." 

"  How  ! "  cried  the  captain,  starting. 

"For  looking  at  Ms  daughter,  please  you,"  said 
the  novice. 

"Write  Curzon  down,  Denounced,"  said  the  cap- 
tain. "Put  a  black  cross  against  the  name  of 
Curzon." 

"  So  please  you,"  said  the  novice,  "  that's  not  the 
worst  —  he  calls  his  'prentice  idle  dog,  and  stops  his 
beer  unless  he  works  to  his  liking.  He  gives  Dutch 
cheese,  too,  eating  Cheshire,  sir,  himself;  and  Sun- 
days out  are  only  once  a  month." 

"  This,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  gravely,  "  is  a  flagrant 
case.     Put  two  black  crosses  to  the  name  of  Curzon." 

"  If  the  society,"  said  the  novice,  who  was  an  ill- 
looking,  one-sided,  shambling  lad,  with  sunken  eyes 
set  close  together   in   his   head  —  "if   the   society 

VOL.  I.-7. 


98  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

would  burn  his  house  down  —  for  he's  not  insured 
—  or  beat  hira  as  he  comes  home  from  his  club  at 
night,  or  help  me  to  carry  off  his  daughter,  and 
marry  her  at  the  Fleet,  whether  she  gave  consent  or 
no  —  " 

Mr.  Tappertit  waved  his  grisly  truncheon  as  an 
admonition  to  him  not  to  interrupt,  and  ordered 
three  black  crosses  to  the  name  of  Curzon. 

"  Which  means,"  he  said  in  gracious  explanation, 
"vengeance,  complete  and  terrible.  'Prentice,  do 
you  love  the  Constitution  ?  " 

To  which  the  novice  (being  to  that  end  instructed 
by  his  attendant  sponsors)  replied,  "  I  do  ! " 

"The  Church,  the  State,  and  everything  estab- 
lished —  but  the  masters  ?  "  quoth  the  captain. 

Again  the  novice  said,  "  I  do." 

Having  said  it,  he  listened  meekly  to  the  captain, 
who,  in  an  address  prepared  for  such  occasions,  told 
him  how  that  under  that  same  Constitution  (which 
was  kept  in  a  strong  box  somewhere,  but  where 
exactly  he  could  not  find  out,  or  he  would  have 
endeavored  to  procure  a  copy  of  it),  the  'prentices 
had,  in  times  gone  by,  had  frequent  holidays  of 
right,  broken  people's  heads  by  scores,  defied  their 
masters,  nay,  even  achieved  some  glorious  murders 
in  the  streets,  which  privileges  had  gradually  been 
wrested  from  them,  and  in  all  which  noble  aspira- 
tions they  were  now  restrained ;  how  the  degrading 
cheeks  imjjosed  upon  them  were  unquestionably 
attributable  to  the  innovating  spirit  of  the  times, 
and  how  they  united,  therefore,  to  resist  all  change, 
except  such  change  as  would  restore  those  good  old 
English  customs,  by  which  they  would  stand  or  fall. 
After  illustrating  the  wisdom  of  going  backward  by 


BARNABY   EUDGE.  99 

reference  to  that  sagacious  fish,  the  crab,  and  the  not 
unfrequent  practice  of  the  mule  and  donkey,  he 
described  their  general  objects  :  which  were  briefly 
vengeance  on  their  Tyrant  Masters  (of  whose  griev- 
ous and  insupportable  oppression  no  'prentice  could 
entertain  a  moment's  doubt),  and  the  restoration, 
as  aforesaid,  of  their  ancient  rights  and  holidays  ; 
for  neither  of  which  objects  were  they  now  quite 
ripe,  being  barely  twenty  strong,  but  which  they 
pledged  themselves  to  pursue  with  fire  and  sword 
when  needful.  Then  he  described  the  oath  which 
every  member  of  that  small  remnant  of  a  noble 
body  took,  and  which  was  of  a  dreadful  and  im- 
pressive kind;  binding  him,  at  the  bidding  of  his 
chief,  to  resist  and  obstruct  the  Lord  Mayor,  sword- 
bearer,  and  chaplain ;  to  despise  the  authority  of  the 
sheriffs;  and  to  hold  the  Court  of  Aldermen  as 
naught ;  but  not  on  any  account,  in  case  the  fulness 
of  time  should  bring  a  general  rising  of  'prentices, 
to  damage  or  in  any  way  disfigure  Temple  Bar, 
which  Avas  strictly  constitutional,  and  always  to  be 
approached  with  reverence.  Having  gone  over  these 
several  heads  with  great  eloquence  and  force,  and 
having  further  informed  the  novice  that  this  society 
had  had  its  origin  in  his  own  teeming  brain,  stimu- 
lated by  a  swelling  sense  of  wrong  and  outrage,  Mr. 
Tappertit  demanded  whether  he  had  strength  of 
heart  to  take  the  mighty  pledge  required,  or  whether 
he  would  withdraw  while  retreat  was  yet  within  his 
power. 

To  this  the  novice  made  rejoinder  that  he  would 
take  the  vow,  though  it  should  choke  him  ;  and  it 
was  accordingly  administered  with  many  impressive 
circumstances,  among  which  the  lighting  up  of  the 


100  BAKNABY   RUDGE. 

two  skulls  with  a  candle-end  inside  of  each,  and  a 
great  many  flourishes  with  the  bone,  were  chiefly 
conspicuous;  not  to  mention  a  variety  of  grave 
exercises  with  the  blunderbuss  and  sabre,  and  some 
dismal  groaning  by  unseen  'prentices  without.  All 
these  dark  and  direful  ceremonies  being  at  length 
completed,  the  table  was  put  aside,  the  chair  of 
state  removed,  the  sceptre  locked  up  in  its  usual 
cupboard,  the  doors  of  communication  between  the 
three  cellars  thrown  freely  open,  and  the  'Prentice 
Knights  resigned  themselves  to  merriment. 

But  Mr.  Tappertit,  Avho  had  a  soul  above  the 
vulgar  herd,  and  who,  on  account  of  his  greatness, 
could  only  afford  to  be  merry  now  and  then,  threw 
himself  on  a  bench  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was 
faint  with  dignity.  He  looked  with  an  indifferent 
eye,  alike  on  skittles,  cards,  and  dice,  thinking  only 
of  the  locksmith's  daughter,  and  the  base  degenerate 
days  on  which  he  had  fallen. 

"  My  noble  captain  neither  games,  nor  sings,  nor 
dances,"  said  his  host,  taking  a  seat  beside  him. 
"  Drink,  gallant  general ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit  drained  the  proffered  goblet  to  the 
dregs ;  then  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
with  a  lowering  visage  walked  among  the  skittles, 
while  his  followers  (such  is  the  influence  of  superior 
genius)  restrained  the  ardent  ball,  and  held  his  little 
shins  in  dumb  respect. 

"  If  I  had  been  born  a  corsair  or  a  pirate,  a  bri- 
gand, genteel  highwayman,  or  patriot,  —  and  they're 
the  same  thing,"  thought  Mr.  Tappertit,  musing 
among  the  nine-pins,  —  "I  should  have  been  all 
right.  But  to  drag  out  an  ignoble  existence  unbe- 
known to  mankind  in  general Patience!     I 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  101 

will  be  famous  yet.  A  voice  Avithin  me  keeps  on 
whispering  Greatness.  I  shall  burst  out  one  of 
these  days,  and  when  I  do,  what  power  can  keep  me 
down  ?  I  feel  my  soul  getting  into  my  head  at  the 
idea.     More  drink  there  ! " 

"The  novice,"  pursued  Mr.  Tappertit,  not  exactly 
in  a  voice  of  thunder,  for  his  tones,  to  say  the  truth, 
were  rather  cracked  and  shrill  —  but  very  impres- 
sively, notwithstanding  —  "  where  is  he  ?  " 

*'  Here,  noble  captain ! "  cried  Stagg.  "  One  stands 
'  beside  me  who  I  feel  is  a  stranger." 

"  Have  you,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  letting  his  gaze 
fall  on  the  party  indicated,  who  was  indeed  the 
new  knight,  by  this  time  restored  to  his  own  apparel ; 
"ha,ve  you  the  impression  of  your  street-door  key 
in  wax  ?  " 

The  long  comrade  anticipated  the  reply  by  pro- 
ducing it  from  the  shelf  on  which  it  had  been 
deposited. 

"  Good,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  scrutinizing  it  atten- 
tively, while  a  breathless  silence  reigned  around ; 
for  he  had  constructed  secret  door-keys  for  the  whole 
society,  and  perhaps  owed  something  of  his  influence 
to  that  mean  and  trivial  circumstance  —  on  such 
slight  accidents  do  even  men  of  mind  dejiend !  — 
"This  is  easily  made.     Come  hither,  friend." 

With  that  he  beckoned  the  new  knight  apart,  and 
putting  the  pattern  in  his  pocket,  motioned  to  him 
to  walk  by  his  side. 

"And  so,"  he  said,  when  they  had  taken  a  few 
turns  up  and  down,  "  you  —  you  love  your  master's 
daughter  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  said  the  'prentice.  "  Honor  bright.  No 
chaff,  you  know." 


102  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

"Have  you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Tappertit,  catching  him 
by  the  wrist,  and  giving  him  a  look  which  would 
have  been  expressive  of  the  most  deadly  malevo- 
lence, but  for  an  accidental  hiccup  that  rather  inter- 
fered with  it ;  "  have  you  a  —  a  rival  ?  " 

"  Xot  as  I  know  on,"  replied  the  'prentice. 

"  If  you  had  now  "  —  said  Mr.  Tappertit  —  "  what 
would  you  —  eh  ?  —  " 

The  'prentice  looked  fierce  and  clenched  his  fists. 

"  It  is  enough,"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit  hastily ;  "  we 
understand  each  other.  We  are  observed.  I  thank 
you." 

So  saying,  he  cast  him  off  again ;  and  calling  the 
long  comrade  aside  after  taking  a  few  hasty  turns 
by  himself,  bade  him  immediately  write  and  post 
against  the  wall  a  notice,  proscribing  one  Joseph 
Willet  (commonly  known  as  Joe)  of  Chigwell ;  for- 
bidding all  'Prentice  Knights  to  succor,  comfort,  or 
hold  communion  with  him  ;  and  requiring  them,  on 
pain  of  excommunication,  to  molest,  hurt,  wrong, 
annoy,  and  pick  quarrels  with  the  said  Joseph, 
whensoever  and  wheresoever  they,  or  any  of  them, 
should  happen  to  encounter  him. 

Having  relieved  his  mind  by  this  energetic  pro- 
ceeding, he  condescended  to  approach  the  festive 
board,  and  warming  by  degrees,  at  length  deigned 
to  preside,  and  even  to  enchant  the  company  with  a 
song.  After  this,  he  rose  to  such  a  pitch  as  to 
consent  to  regale  the  society  with  a  hornpipe,  which 
he  actually  performed  to  the  music  of  a  fiddle 
(played  by  an  ingenious  member),  with  such  sur- 
passing agility  and  brilliancy  of  execution,  that  the 
spectators  could  not  be  sufficiently  enthusiastic  in 
their   admiration ;  and  their  host   protested,   with 


BAENABY  ETJDGE.  103 

tears  in  his  eyes,  that  he  had  never  truly  felt  his 
blindness  until  that  moment. 

But  the  host  withdrawing  —  probably  to  weep  in 
secret  —  soon  returned  with  the  information  that  it 
wanted  little  more  than  an  hour  of  day,  and  that  all 
the  cocks  in  Barbican  had  already  begun  to  crow,  as 
if  their  lives  depended  on  it.  At  this  intelligence, 
the  'Prentice  Knights  arose  in  haste,  and  marshal- 
ling into  a  line,  filed  off  one  by  one,  and  dispersed 
with  all  speed  to  their  several  homes,  leaving  their 
leader  to  pass  the  grating  last. 

"  Good-night,  noble  captain,"  whispered  the  blind 
man  as  he  held  it  open  for  his  passage  out.  "  Fare- 
well, brave  general.  Bye,  bye,  illustrious  com- 
mander. Good  luck  go  with  you  for  a  —  conceited, 
bragging,  empty-headed,  duck-legged  idiot." 

With  which  parting  words,  coolly  added  as  he 
listened  to  his  receding  footsteps  and  locked  the 
grate  upon  himself,  he  descended  the  steps,  and 
lighting  the  fire  below  the  little  copper,  prepared, 
without  any  assistance,  for  his  daily  occupation ; 
which  was  to  retail  at  the  area-head  above  penny- 
worths of  broth  and  soup,  and  savory  puddings, 
compounded  of  such  scraps  as  were  to  be  bought  in 
the  heap  for  the  least  money  at  Fleet  Market  in  the 
evening-time ;  and  for  the  sale  of  which  he  had 
need  to  have  depended  chiefly  on  his  private  con- 
nection, for  the  court  had  no  thoroughfare,  and  was 
not  that  kind  of  place  in  which  many  people  were 
likely  to  take  the  air,  or  to  frequent  as  an  agreeable 
promenade. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Chroniclers  are  privileged  to  enter  where  they 
list,  to  come  and  go  through  keyholes,  to  ride  upon 
the  wind,  to  overcome,  in  their  soarings  up  and 
down,  all  obstacles  of  distance,  time,  and  place. 
Thrice  blessed  be  this  last  consideration,  since  it 
enables  us  to  follow  the  disdainful  Miggs  even  into 
the  sanctity  of  her  chamber,  and  to  hold  her  in 
sweet  companionship  through  the  dreary  watches  of 
the  night ! 

Miss  INtiggs,  having  undone  her  mistress,  as  she 
phrased  it  (which  means,  assisted  to  undress  her), 
and  having  seen  her  comfortably  to  bed  in  the  back- 
room on  the  first  floor,  withdrew  to  her  own  apartment 
in  the  attic  story.  Notwithstanding  her  declaration 
in  the  locksmith's  presence,  she  was  in  no  mood  for 
sleep ;  so,  putting  her  light  upon  the  table  and  with- 
drawing the  little  window  curtain,  she  gazed  out  pen- 
sively at  the  wild  night  sky. 

Perhaps  she  wondered  what  star  was  destined  for 
her  habitation  when  she  had  run  her  little  course 
below ;  perhaps  speculated  which  of  those  glimmer- 
ing spheres  might  be  the  natal  orb  of  Mr.  Tappertit; 
perhai)S  marvelled  how  they  could  gaze  down  on  that 
perfidious  creature,  man,  and  not  sicken  and  turn 
green  as  chemists'  lamps ;  perhaps  thought  of 
104 


BAHNABY  EUDGE.  105 

nothing  in  particular.  Whatever  she  thought  about, 
there  she  sat,  until  her  attention,  alive  to  anything 
connected  with  the  insinuating  'prentice,  was  at- 
tracted by  a  noise  in  the  next  room  to  her  own  — 
his  room ;  the  room  in  which  he  slept,  and  dreamed 
—  it  might  be,  sometimes  dreamed  of  her. 

That  he  was  not  dreaming  now,  unless  he  was 
taking  a  walk  in  his  sleep,  was  clear,  for  every  now 
and  then  there  came  a  shuffling  noise,  as  though  he 
were  engaged  in  polishing  the  whitewashed  wall ; 
then  a  gentle  creaking  of  his  door ;  then  the  faintest 
indication  of  his  stealthy  footsteps  on  the  landing- 
place  outside.  Noting  this  latter  circumstance, 
Miss  Miggs  turned  pale  and  shuddered,  as  mistrust- 
ing his  intentions  ;  and  more  than  once  exclaimed 
below  her  breath,  "  Oh !  what  a  Providence  it  is  as 
I  am  bolted  in  ! "  —  which,  owing  doubtless  to  her 
alarm,  Avas  a  confusion  of  ideas  on  her  part  between 
a  bolt  and  its  use ;  for  though  there  was  one  on  the 
door,  it  was  not  fastened. 

Miss  Miggs's  sense  of  hearing,  however,  having 
as  sharp  an  edge  as  her  temper,  and  being  of  the 
same  snappish  and  suspicious  kind,  very  soon 
informed  her  that  the  footsteps  passed  her  door,  and 
appeared  to  have  some  object  quite  separate  and 
disconnected  from  herself.  At  this  discovery  she 
became  more  alarmed  than  ever,  and  was  about  to 
give  utterance  to  those  cries  of  "  Thieves  ! "  and 
"  Murder ! "  which  she  had  hitherto  restrained, 
when  it  occurred  to  her  to  look  softly  out,  and  see 
that  her  fears  had  some  good  palpable  foundation. 

Looking  out  accordingly,  and  stretching  her  neck 
over  the  handrail,  she  descried,  to  her  great  amaze- 
ment,  Mr.  Tappertit   completely  dressed,    stealing 


106  BAKNABY  RUDGE. 

downstairs  one  step  at  a  time,  with  his  shoes  in  one 
handand  a  lamp  in  the  other.  Following  him  with 
her  eyes,  and  going  down  a  little  way  herself  to  get 
the  better  of  an  intervening  angle,  she  beheld  him 
thrust  his  liead  in  at  the  parlor-door,  draw  it  back 
again  with  great  swiftness,  and  immediately  begin  a 
retreat  upstairs  with  all  possible  expedition. 

"  Here's  mysteries  ! "  said  the  damsel,  when  she 
w^as  safe  in  her  own  room  again,  quite  out  of  breath. 
"  Oh  gracious,  here's  mysteries  ! " 

The  prospect  of  finding  anybody  out  in  anything 
would  have  kept  Miss  Miggs  awake  under  the  influ- 
ence of  henbane.  Presently  she  heard  the  step 
again,  as  she  would  have  done  if  it  had  been  that  of 
a  feather  endowed  with  motion  and  walking  down 
on  tiptoe.  Then,  gliding  out  as  before,  she  again 
beheld  the  retreating  figure  of  the  'prentice  ;  again 
he  looked  cautiously  in  at  the  parlor-door,  but  this 
time,  instead  of  retreating,  he  passed  in  and  disap- 
peared. 

Miggs  was  back  in  her  room,  and  had  her  head 
out  of  the  window,  before  an  elderly  gentleman 
could  have  winked  and  recovered  from  it.  Out  he 
came  at  the  street-door,  shut  it  carefully  behind 
him,  tried  it  with  his  knee,  and  swaggered  off,  ])nt- 
ting  something  in  his  pocket  as  he  went  along.  At 
this  spectacle  Miggs  cried  "  Gracious  ! "  again,  and 
then,  "  Goodness  gracious  !  "  and  then,  "  Goodness 
gracious  me  !  "  and  then,  candle  in  liand,  went  down- 
stairs as  he  liad  done.  Coming  to  the  workshop, 
she  saw  the  lamp  burning  on  the  forge,  and  every- 
thing as  Sim  had  left  it. 

*'  Why,  I  wish  I  may  only  have  a  walking  funeral, 
and  never  be  buried  decent  with  a  mourning  coach 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  107 

and  feathers,  if  the  boy  hasn't  been  and  made 
a  key  for  his  own  self ! "  cried  Miggs.  "  Oh  the 
little  villain!" 

This  conclusion  was  not  arrived  at  without  con- 
sideration, and  much  peeping  and  peering  about ; 
nor  was  it  unassisted  by  the  recollection  that  she 
had  on  several  occasions  come  upon  the  'prentice 
suddenly,  and  found  him  busy  at  some  mysterious 
occupation.  Lest  the  fact  of  Miss  Miggs  calling 
him,  on  whom  she  stooped  to  cast  a  favorable  eye,  a 
boy,  should  create  surprise  in  any  breast,  it  may  be 
observed  that  she  invariably  affected  to  regard  all 
male  bipeds  under  thirty  as  mere  chits  and  infants  ; 
which  phenomenon  is  not  unusual  in  ladies  of  Miss 
Miggs's  temper,  and  is,  indeed,  generally  found  to  be 
the  associate  of  such  indomitable  and  savage  virtue. 

Miss  Miggs  deliberated  within  herself  for  some 
little  time,  looking  hard  at  the  shop-door  while  she 
did  so,  as  though  her  eyes  and  thoughts  were  both 
upon  it ;  and  then,  taking  a  sheet  of  paper  from  a 
drawer,  twisted  it  into  a  long  thin  spiral  tube. 
Having  filled  this  instrument  with  a  quantity  of 
small  coal  dust  from  the  forge,  she  approached  the 
door,  and  dropping  on  one  knee  before  it,  dexter- 
ously blew  into  the  keyhole  as  much  of  these  fine 
ashes  as  the  lock  would  hold.  When  she  had  filled 
it  to  the  brim  in  a  very  workmanlike  and  skilful 
manner,  she  crept  upstairs  again,  and  chuckled  as 
she  went. 

"  There  ! "  cried  Miggs,  rubbing  her  hands,  "  now 
let's  see  whether  you  won't  be  glad  to  take  some 
notice  of  me,  mister.  He,  he,  he !  You'll  have 
eyes  for  somebody  besides  Miss  Dolly  now,  I  think. 
A  fat-faced  puss  she  is,  as  ever  /  come  across  ! " 


108  BAHNABY  EUDGE. 

As  she  uttered  this  criticism,  she  glanced  approv- 
ingly at  her  small  mirror,  as  who  should  say,  I  thank 
my  stars  that  can't  be  said  of  me  —  as  it  certainly 
could  not ;  for  ]\[iss  Miggs's  style  of  beauty  was  of 
that  kind  which  jVIr.  Tappertit  himself  had  not 
inajjtly  termed,  in  private,  "scraggy." 

"  I  don't  go  to  bed  this  night ! "  said  Miggs,  wrap- 
ping herself  in  a  shawl,  and  drawing  a  couple  of 
chairs  near  the  window,  flouncing  down  upon  one, 
and  putting  her  feet  upon  the  other,  "  till  you  come 
home,  my  lad.  I  wouldn't,"  said  Miggs  viciously, 
"  no,  not  for  five  and  forty  pound  ! " 

With  that,  and  with  an  expression  of  face  in 
■which  a  great  number  of  opposite  ingredients,  such 
as  mischief,  cunning,  malice,  triumj^h,  and  patient 
expectation,  were  all  mixed  up  together  in  a  kind 
of  physiognomical  punch.  Miss  Miggs  composed 
herself  to  wait  and  listen,  like  some  fair  ogress  who 
had  set  a  trap  and  was  watching  for  a  nibble  from  a 
plump  young  traveller. 

She  sat  there,  with  perfect  composure,  all  night. 
At  length,  just  upon  break  of  day,  there  was  a  foot- 
step in  the  street,  and  presently  she  could  hear  Mr. 
Tappertit  stop  at  the  door.  Then  she  could  make 
out  that  he  tried  his  key  —  that  he  was  blowing 
into  it  —  that  he  knocked  it  on  the  nearest  post  to 
beat  the  dust  out — that  he  took  it  under  a  lamp  to 
look  at  it  —  that  he  poked  bits  of  stick  into  the  lock 
to  clear  it  —  that  he  peeped  into  the  keyhole,  first 
Avith  one  eye,  and  then  with  the  other  —  that  he 
tried  the  key  again  —  that  he  couldn't  turn  it,  and, 
what  was  worse,  couldn't  get  it  out  —  that  he  bent 
it  —  that  then  it  was  much  less  disposed  to  come 
out  than  before  —  that  he  gave  it  a  mighty   twist 


BAKNABY   RUDGE.  109 

and  a  great  pull,  and  then  it  came  out  so  suddenly 
that  he  staggered  backwards  —  that  he  kicked  the 
door  —  that  he  shook  it  —  finally,  that  he  smote  his 
forehead,  and  sat  down  on  the  step  in  despair. 

When  this  crisis  had  arrived,  Miss  Miggs,  affect- 
ing to  be  exhausted  with  terror,  and  to  cling  to  the 
window-sill  for  support,  put  out  her  nightcap,  and 
demanded  in  a  faint  voice  who  was  there. 

Mr.  Tappertit  cried  "  Hush  ! "  and,  backing  into 
the  road,  exhorted  her  in  frenzied  pantomime  to 
secrecy  and  silence. 

"  Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  Miggs.  "  Is  it 
thieves  ?  " 

"  No  —  no  —  no  !  "  cried  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  Then,"  said  Miggs  more  faintly  than  before, 
"  it's  fire.  Where  is  it,  sir  ?  It's  near  this  room,  I 
know.  I've  a  good  conscience,  sir,  and  would  much 
rather  die  than  go  down  a  ladder.  All  I  wish  is, 
respecting  my  love  to  my  married  sister.  Golden 
Lion  Court,  number  twenty-sivin,  second  bell-handle 
on  the  right-hand  door-post." 

«  Miggs  ! "  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  "  don't  you  know 
me  ?     Sim,  you  know  —  Sim  —  " 

"  Oh  !  what  about  him  ?  "  cried  Miggs,  clasping 
her  hands.  "  Is  he  in  any  danger  ?  Is  he  in  the 
midst  of  flames  and  blazes  ?  Oh  gracious,  gracious  ! " 

"  Why,  I'm  here,  ain't  I  ? "  rejoined  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit, knocking  himself  on  the  breast.  "  Don't  you 
see  me  ?     What  a  fool  you  are,  Miggs  !  " 

"  There  !  "  cried  Miggs,  unmindful  of  this  compli- 
ment. "  W^hy  —  so  it  —  Goodness,  what  is  the 
meaning  of —     If  you  please,  mini,  here's  —  " 

"  iSTo,  no  ! "  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  standing  on  tip- 
toe, as  if  by  that  means  he,  in  the  street,  were  any 


110  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

nearer  being  able  to  stop  the  mouth  of  ^liggs  in  the 
garret.  "  Don't !  I've  been  out  without  leave,  and 
something  or  another's  the  matter  with  the  lock. 
Come  down,  and  undo  the  shop-window,  that  I  may 
get  in  that  way." 

"  I  dursn't  do  it,  Simmun,"  cried  IMiggs  —  for  that 
was  her  pronunciation  of  his  Christian  name.  "I 
dursn't  do  it,  indeed.  You  know  as  well  as  anybody 
how  particular  I  am.  And  to  come  down  in  the 
dead  of  night,  when  the  house  is  wrapped  in  slum- 
bers and  weiled  in  obscurity  ! "  And  there  she 
stopped  and  shivered,  for  her  modesty  caught  cold 
at  the  very  thought. 

"But,  Miggs,"  cried  Mr.  Tappertit,  getting  under 
the  lamp,  that  she  might  see  his  eyes.  "  My  darling 
Miggs  —  " 

Miggs  screamed  slightly. 

"  —  That  I  love  so  much,  and  never  can  help 
thinking  of,"  —  and  it  is  imjDossible  to  describe  the 
use  he  made  of  his  eyes  when  he  said  this  —  "do  — 
for  my  sake,  do." 

"  Oh,  Simmun,"  cried  Miggs,  "  this  is  Avorse  than 
all.     I  know,  if  I  come  down,  you'll  go  and  —  " 

"  And  what,  my  precious  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  And  try,"  said  Miggs  hysterically,  "  to  kiss  me, 
or  some  such  dreadfulness ;  I  know  you  will  I  " 

"  I  swear  I  won't,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  Avith  re- 
markable earnestness.  "Upon  my  soul  I  won't. 
It's  getting  broad  day,  and  the  watchman's  waking 
up.  Angelic  ^liggs  !  If  you'll  only  come  and  let 
me  in,  I  promise  you  faithfully  and  truly  I  won't." 

Miss  Miggs,  whose  gentle  heart  was  touched,  did 
not  wait  for  the  oath  (knowing  how  strong  the  temp- 
tation was,  and  fearing  he  might  forswear  himself), 


BAENABY   EUDGE.  Ill 

but  tripped  lightly  down  the  stairs,  and  with  her 
own  fair  hands  drew  back  the  rough  fastenings  of 
the  workshop  window.  Having  helped  the  wayward 
'prentice  in,  she  faintly  articulated  the  words 
"  Simmun  is  safe !  "  and  yielding  to  her  woman's 
nature,  immediately  became  insensible. 

"  I  knew  I  should  quench  her,"  said  Sim,  rather 
embarrassed  by  this  circumstance.  "Of  course  I 
was  certain  it  would  come  to  this,  but  there  was 
nothing  else  to  be  done.  If  I  hadn't  eyed  her  over, 
she  wouldn't  have  come  down.  Here.  Keep  up  a 
minute,  Miggs.  What  a  slippery  figure  she  is ! 
There's  no  holding  her  comfortably.  Do  keep  up  a 
minute,  Miggs,  will  you  ?  " 

As  Miggs,  however,  was  deaf  to  all  entreaties, 
Mr.  Tappertit  leant  her  against  the  wall  as  one 
might  dispose  of  a  walking-stick  or  umbrella,  until 
he  had  secured  the  window,  when  he  took  her  in  his 
arms  again,  and  in  short  stages  and  with  great  diffi- 
culty —  arising  mainly  from  her  being  tall  and  his 
being  short,  and  perhaps  in  some  degree  from  that 
peculiar  physical  conformation  on  which  he  had 
already  remarked  —  carried  her  upstairs,  and  plant- 
ing her  in  the  same  umbrella  or  walking-stick 
fashion  just  inside  her  own  door,  left  her  to  her 
repose. 

"  He  may  be  as  cool  as  he  likes,"  said  Miss  Miggs, 
recovering  as  soon  as  she  was  left  alone  :  "  but  I'm 
in  his  confidence,  and  he  can't  help  himself,  nor 
couldn't  if  he  was  twenty  Simmunses ! " 


CHAPTER  X. 

It  was  on  one  of  those  mornings,  common  in  early- 
spring,  when  the  year,  fickle  and  changeable  in  its 
youth  like  all  other  created  things,  is  undecided 
whether  to  step  backward  into  winter  or  forward 
into  summer,  and  in  its  uncertainty  inclines  now  to 
the  one  and  now  to  the  other,  and  now  to  both  at 
once  —  wooing  summer  in  the  sunshine,  and  linger- 
ing still  with  winter  in  the  shade  —  it  was,  in  short, 
on  one  of  those  mornings  when  it  is  hot  and  cold, 
wet  and  dry,  bright  and  lowering,  sad  and  cheerful, 
withering  and  genial,  in  the  compass  of  one  short 
hour,  that  old  John  Willet,  who  was  dropping  asleep 
over  the  copper  boiler,  was  roused  by  the  sound  of 
a  horse's  feet,  and  glancing  out  at  window,  beheld  a 
traveller  of  goodly  promise  checking  his  bridle  at 
the  Maypole  door. 

He  was  none  of  your  flippant  young  fellows, 
who  would  call  for  a  tankard  of  mulled  ale,  and 
make  themselves  as  much  at  home  as  if  they 
had  ordered  a  hogshead  of  wine ;  none  of  your 
audacious  young  swaggerers,  who  would  even  pene- 
trate into  the  bar  —  that  solemn  sanctuary — and, 
smiting  old  John  upon  the  back,  inquire  if  there 
was  never  a  pretty  girl  in  the  house,  and  where 
he  hid  his  little  chambermaids,  with  a  hundred 
112 


BARNABY   EUDGE.  113 

other  impertinences  of  that  nature ;  none  of  your 
free-and-easy  companions,  who  would  scrape  their 
boots  upon  the  fire-dogs  in  the  common  room,  and 
be  not  at  all  particular  on  the  subject  of  spittoons ; 
none  of  your  unconscionable  blades,  requiring  im- 
possible chops,  and  taking  unheard-of  pickles  for 
granted.  He  was  a  staid,  grave,  placid  gentleman, 
something  past  the  prime  of  life,  yet  upright  in  his 
carriage  for  all  that,  and  slim  as  a  greyhound.  He 
was  well  mounted  upon  a  sturdy  chestnut  cob,  and 
had  the  graceful  seat  of  an  experienced  horseman ; 
while  his  riding-gear,  though  free  from  such  fopper- 
ies as  were  then  in  vogue,  was  handsome  and  well 
chosen.  He  wore  a  riding-coat  of  a  somewhat 
brighter  green  than  might  have  been  expected  to 
suit  the  taste  of  a  gentleman  of  his  years,  with  a 
short,  black  velvet  cape,  and  laced  pocket-holes  and 
cuffs,  all  of  a  jaunty  fashion  ;  his  linen,  too,  was  of 
the  finest  kind,  worked  in  a  rich  pattern  at  the 
wrists  and  throat,  and  scrupulously  white.  Al- 
though he  seemed,  judging  from  the  mud  he  had 
picked  up  on  the  way,  to  have  come  from  London, 
his  horse  was  as  smooth  and  cool  as  his  own  iron- 
gray  periwig  and  pigtail.  Neither  man  nor  beast 
had  turned  a  single  hair  ;  and,  saving  for  his  soiled 
skirts  and  spatterdashes,  this  gentleman  with  his 
blooming  face,  white  teeth,  exactly-ordered  dress, 
and  perfect  calmness,  might  have  come  from  making 
an  elaborate  and  leisurely  toilet,  to  sit  for  an  eques- 
trian portrait  at  old  John  Willet's  gate. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  John  observed  these 
several  characteristics  by  other  than  very  slow  de- 
grees, or  that  he  took  in  more  than  half  a  one  at  a 
time,  or  that  he  even  made  up  his  mind  upon  that 

VOL.  I.-8. 


114  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

without  a  great  deal  of  very  serious  consideration. 
Indeed,  if  he  had  been  distracted  in  the  lirst  instance 
by  questionings  and  orders,  it  woukl  have  taken 
him  at  the  least  a  fortnight  to  have  noted  what  is 
here  set  down ;  but  it  happened  that  the  gentleman, 
being  struck  with  the  old  house,  or  with  the  plump 
pigeons  which  were  skimming  and  curtsying  about 
it,  or  with  the  tall  maypole,  on  the  top  of  which  a 
weathercock,  which  had  been  out  of  order  for  fifteen 
years,  performed  a  perpetual  walk  to  the  music  of 
its  own  creaking,  sat  for  some  little  time  looking 
round  in  silence.  Hence  John,  standing  with  his 
hand  upon  the  horse's  bridle,  and  his  great  eyes  on 
the  rider,  and  with  nothing  passing  to  divert  his 
thoughts,  had  really  got  some  of  these  little  circum- 
stances into  his  brain  by  the  time  he  was  called 
upon  to  speak, 

"  A  quaint  place  this,"  said  the  gentleman  —  and 
his  voice  was  as  rich  as  his  dress.  "  Are  you  the 
landlord  ?  " 

"  At  your  service,  sir,"  replied  John  Willet. 

"You  can  give  my  horse  good  stabling,  can  you, 
and  me  an  early  dinner  (I  am  not  particular  what, 
so  that  it  be  cleanly  served),  and  a  decent  room  — 
of  which  there  seems  to  be  no  lack  in  this  great 
mansion  ? "  said  the  stranger,  again  running  his 
eyes  over  the  exterior. 

"  You  can  have,  sir,"  returned  John,  with  a  readi- 
ness quite  surprising,  "  anything  you  please." 

"  It's  well  I  am  easily  satisfied,"  returned  the 
other  with  a  smile,  "  or  that  might  prove  a  hardy 
pledge,  my  friend."  And  saying  so,  he  dismounted, 
with  the  aid  of  the  block  before  the  door,  in  a 
twinklin" 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  115 

"  Halloa  there  !  Hugh  !  "  roared  John.  "  I  ask 
your  pardon,  sir,  for  keeping  you  standing  in  the 
porch ;  but  my  son  has  gone  to  town  on  business, 
and  the  boy  being,  as  I  may  say,  of  a  kind  of  use  to 
me,  I'm  rather  put  out  when  he's  away.  Hugh  !  — 
a  dreadful  idle  vagrant  fellow,  sir  —  half  a  gypsy, 
as  I  think  —  always  sleeping  in  the  sun  in  summer, 
and  in  the  straw  in  winter-time,  sir  —  Hugh  !  Dear 
Lord,  to  keep  a  gentleman  a  waiting  here  throiTgh 
him  !  —  Hugh  !  I  wish  that  chap  was  dead,  I  do 
indeed." 

"  Possibly  he  is,"  returned  the  other.  ''  I  should 
think,  if  he  were  living,  he  would  have  heard  you 
by  this  time." 

"In  his  fits  of  laziness,  he  sleeps  so  desperate 
hard,"  said  the  distracted  host,  "that  if  you  were  to 
fire  off  cannon-balls  into  his  ears,  it  wouldn't  wake 
him,  sir." 

The  guest  made  no  remark  upon  this  novel  cure 
for  drowsiness,  and  recipe  for  making  people  lively, 
but,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  stood  in 
the  porch,  apparently  very  much  amused  to  see  old 
John,  with  the  bridle  in  his  hand,  wavering  between 
a  strong  impulse  to  abandon  the  animal  to  his  fate, 
and  a  half-disposition  to  lead  him  into  the  house, 
and  shut  him  up  in  the  parlor,  while  he  waited  on 
his  master. 

"  Pillory  the  fellow,  here  he  is  at  last ! "  cried 
John,  in  the  very  height  and  zenith  of  his  distress. 
"  Did  you  hear  me  a  calling,  villain  ?  " 

The  figure  he  addressed  made  no  answer,  but, 
putting  his  hand  upon  the  saddle,  sprung  into  it  at 
a  bound,  turned  the  horse's  head  towards  the  stable, 
and  was  gone  in  an  instant. 


116  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

"Brisk  enough  when  he  is  awake,"  said  the  gnest. 

"  Brisk  enough,  sir  !  "  replied  John,  looking  at  the 
place  where  the  horse  had  been,  as  if  not  yet  under- 
standing quite  what  had  become  of  him.  "He 
melts,  I  think.  He  goes  like  a  drop  of  froth.  You 
look  at  him,  and  there  he  is.  You  look  at  him 
again,  and  —  there  he  isn't." 

Having,  in  the  absence  of  any  more  words,  put 
this  sudden  climax  to  what  he  had  faintly  intended 
should  be  a  long  explanation  of  the  whole  life  and 
character  of  his  man,  the  oracular  John  Willet  led 
the  gentleman  up  his  wide  dismantled  staircase  into 
the  Maypole's  best  apartment. 

It  was  spacious  enough  in  all  conscience,  occupy- 
ing the  whole  depth  of  the  house,  and  having  at 
either  end  a  great  bay-window,  as  large  as  many 
modern  rooms ;  in  which  some  few  panes  of  stained 
glass,  emblazoned  with  fragments  of  armorial  bear- 
ings, though  cracked,  and  patched,  and  shattered, 
yet  remained  ;  attesting,  by  their  presence,  that  the 
former  owner  had  made  the  very  light  subservient 
to  his  state,  and  pressed  the  sun  itself  into  his  list 
of  flatterers ;  bidding  it,  when  it  shone  into  his 
chamber,  reflect  the  badges  of  his  ancient  family, 
and  take  new  hues  and  colors  from  their  pride. 

But  those  were  old  days,  and  now  every  little  ray 
came  and  went  as  it  would ;  telling  the  plain,  bare, 
searching  truth.  Although  the  best  room  of  the 
inn,  it  had  the  melancholy  aspect  of  grandeur  in 
decay,  and  was  much  too  vast  for  comfort.  Eich 
rustling  hangings,  waving  on  the  walls ;  and,  better 
far,  the  rustling  of  youth  and  beauty's  dress ;  the 
light  of  women's  eyes,  outshining  the  tapers  and 
their  own  rich  jewels  ;  the  sound  of  gentle  tongues 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  117 

and  music,  and  the  tread  of  maiden  feet,  had  once 
been  there,  and  filled  it  with  delight.  But  they 
were  gone,  and  with  them  all  its  gladness.  It  was 
no  longer  a  home  ;  children  were  never  born  and 
bred  there ;  the  fireside  had  become  mercenary  —  a 
something  to  be  bought  and  sold  —  a  very  courtesan : 
let  who  would  die,  or  sit  beside,  or  leave  it,  it  was 
still  the  same  —  it  missed  nobody,  cared  for  nobody, 
had  equal  warmth  and  smiles  for  all.  God  help  the 
man  whose  heart  ever  changes  with  the  world  as  an 
old  mansion  when  it  becomes  an  inn ! 

No  effort  had  been  made  to  furnish  this  chilly 
waste,  but  before  the  broad  chimney  a  colony  of 
chairs  and  tables  had  been  planted  on  a  square  of 
carpet,  flanked  by  a  ghostly  screen,  enriched  with 
figures,  grinning  and  grotesque.  After  lighting 
with  his  own  hands  the  fagots  which  were  heaped 
upon  the  hearth,  old  John  withdrew  to  hold  grave 
counsel  with  his  cook  touching  the  stranger's  enter- 
tainment; while  the  guest  himself,  seeing  small 
comfort  in  the  yet  unkindled  wood,  opened  a  lattice 
in  the  distant  window,  and  basked  in  a  sickly  gleam 
of  cold  March  sun. 

Leaving  the  window  now  and  then  to  rake  the 
crackling  logs  together,  or  pace  the  echoing  room 
from  end  to  end,  he  closed  it  when  the  fire  was 
quite  burnt  up,  and  having  wheeled  the  easiest 
chair  into  the  warmest  corner,  summoned  John 
Willet. 

''  Sir,"  said  John. 

He  wanted  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  There  was  an 
old  standish  on  the  high  mantelshelf,  containing  a 
dusty  apology  for  all  three.  Having  set  this  before 
him,  the  landlord  was  retiring,  when  he  motioned 
him  to  stay. 


118  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

"  There's  a  house  not  far  from  here,"  said  the 
guest  when  he  had  written  a  few  lines,  "  which  you 
call  the  Warren,  I  believe  ?  " 

As  this  was  said  in  the  tone  of  one  who  knew  the 
fact,  and  asked  the  question  as  a  thing  of  course, 
John  contented  himself  with  nodding  his  head  in 
the  affirmative  ;  at  the  same  time  taking  one  hand 
out  of  his  pockets  to  cough  behind,  and  then  put- 
ting it  in  again. 

"  I  want  this  note,"  said  the  guest,  glancing  on 
what  he  had  written,  and  folding  it,  "conveyed 
there  without  loss  of  time,  and  an  answer  brought 
back  here.     Have  you  a  messenger  at  hand  ?  " 

John  was  thoughtful  for  a  minute  or  thereabouts, 
and  then  said  Yes. 

"  Let  me  see  him,"  said  the  guest. 

This  was  disconcerting;  for  Joe  being  out,  and 
Hugh  engaged  in  rubbing  down  the  chestnut  cob, 
he  designed  sending  on  the  errand  Barnaby,  who 
had  just  then  arrived  in  one  of  his  rambles,  and 
who,  so  that  he  thought  himself  employed  on  grave 
and  serious  business,  would  go  anywhere. 

"  Why,  the  truth  is,"  said  John  after  a  long  pause, 
"  that  the  person  who'd  go  quickest  is  a  sort  of 
natural,  as  one  may  say,  sir;  and  though  quick  of 
foot,  and  as  much  to  be  trusted  as  the  post  itself, 
he's  not  good  at  talking,  being  touched  and  flighty, 
sir." 

"  You  don't,"  said  the  guest,  raising  his  eyes  to 
John's  fat  face,  "  you  don't  mean  —  what's  the  fel- 
low's name  ?  —  you  don't  mean  Barnaby  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  do,"  returned  the  landlord,  his  features 
turning  quite  expressive  with  surprise. 

"  How  comes  he  to  be  here  ?  "  inquired  the  guest, 


BAENABY  RITDGE.  119 

leaning  back  in  his  chair;  speaking  in  the  bland, 
even  tone  from  which  he  never  varied ;  and  with  the 
same  soft,  courteous,  never-changing  smile  upon  his 
face.     "  I  saw  him  in  London  last  night." 

"  He's  forever  here  one  hour,  and  there  the  next," 
returned  old  John,  after  the  usual  pause  to  get  the 
question  in  his  mind.  "Sometimes  he  walks,  and 
sometimes  runs.  He's  known  along  the  road  by 
everybody,  and  sometimes  comes  here  in  a  cart  or 
chaise,  and  sometimes  riding  double.  He  comes 
and  goes,  through  wind,  rain,  snow,  and  hail,  and  on 
the  darkest  nights.     Nothing  hurts  him." 

"  He  goes  often  to  this  Warren,  does  he  not  ?  " 
said  the  guest  carelessly.  "  I  seem  to  remember 
his  mother  telling  me  something  to  that  effect  yes- 
terday. But  I  was  not  attending  to  the  good 
woman  much." 

"  You're  right,"  John  made  answer,  "  he  does. 
His  father,  sir,  was  murdered  in  that  house." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  returned  the  guest,  taking  a 
gold  toothpick  from  his  pocket,  with  the  same  sweet 
smile.  "  A  very  disagreeable  circumstance  for  the 
family." 

"Very,"  said  John  with  a  puzzled  look,  as  if  it 
occurred  to  him,  dimly  and  afar  off,  that  this  might 
by  possibility  be  a  cool  way  of  treating  the  subject. 

"  All  the  circumstances  after  a  murder,"  said  the 
guest  soliloquizing,  "  must  be  dreadfully  unpleasant 
—  so  much  bustle  and  disturbance  —  no  repose  —  a 
constant  dwelling  upon  one  subject  —  and  the  run- 
ning in  and  out,  and  up  and  down  stairs,  intoler- 
able. I  wouldn't  have  such  a  thing  happen  to  any- 
body I  was  nearly  interested  in  on  any  account. 
'Twould  be  enough  to  wear  one's  life  out.  —  You 


120  BAKNABY  RUDGE. 

were  going  to  say,  friend  —  "  lie  added,  turning  to 
John  again. 

"  Only  that  Mrs.  Rudge  lives  on  a  little  pension 
from  the  family,  and  that  Barnaby's  as  free  of  the 
house  as  any  cat  or  dog  about  it,"  answered  John. 
"  Shall  he  do  yovir  errand,  sir  ?  " 

"Oh  yes,"  replied  the  guest.  "Oh,  certainly. 
Let  him  do  it  by  all  means.  Please  to  bring  him 
here,  that  I  may  charge  him  to  be  quick.  If  he 
objects  to  come,  you  may  tell  him  it's  Mr.  Chester. 
He  will  remember  my  name  I  dare  say." 

John  was  so  very  much  astonished  to  find  who  his 
visitor  was,  that  he  could  express  no  astonishment 
at  all,  by  looks  or  otherwise,  but  left  the  room  as  if 
he  were  in  the  most  placid  and  imperturbable  of  all 
possible  conditions.  It  has  been  reported  that  when 
he  got  downstairs,  he  looked  steadily  at  the  boiler 
for  ten  minutes  by  the  clock,  and  all  that  time  never 
once  left  off  shaking  his  head ;  for  which  statement 
there  would  seem  to  be  some  ground  of  truth  and 
feasibility,  inasmuch  as  that  interval  of  time  did 
certainly  elapse  before  he  returned  with  Barnaby  to 
the  guest's  apartment. 

"Come  hither,  lad,"  said  Mr.  Chester.  "You 
know  Mr.  Geoffrey  Haredale  ?  " 

Barnaby  laughed,  and  looked  at  the  landlord  as 
though  he  would  say,  "  You  hear  him  ?  "  John,  who 
was  greatly  shocked  at  this  breach  of  decorum, 
clapped  his  finger  to  his  nose,  and  shook  his  head  in 
mute  remonstrance. 

"  He  knows  him,  sir,"  said  John,  frowning  aside 
at  Barnaby,  "  as  well  as  you  or  I  do." 

"  I  haven't  the  pleasure  of  much  acquaintance 
with   the   gentleman,"  returned  his   guest.     "  You 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  121 

may  have.  Limit  the  comparison  to  yourself,  my 
friend." 

Although  this  was  said  with  the  same  easy  affa- 
bility, and  the  same  smile,  John  felt  himself  put 
down,  and  laying  the  indignity  at  Barnaby's  door, 
determined  to  kick  his  raven  on  the  very  first 
opportunity. 

"  Give  that,"  said  the  guest,  who  had  by  this  time 
sealed  the  note,  and  who  beckoned  his  messenger 
towards  him  as  he  spoke,  "  into  Mr.  Haredale's  own 
hands.  Wait  for  an  answer,  and  bring  it  back  to 
me  —  here.  If  you  should  find  that  Mr.  Haredale 
is  engaged  just  now,  tell  him  —  Can  he  remember  a 
message,  landlord  ?  " 

"  When  he  chooses,  sir,"  replied  John.  "  He 
won't  forget  this  one." 

"  How  are  you  sure  of  that  ?  " 

John  merely  pointed  to  him  as  he  stood  with  his 
head  bent  forward,  and  his  earnest  gaze  fixed  closely 
on  his  questioner's  face  ;  and  nodded  sagely. 

"  Tell  him,  then,  Barnaby,  should  he  be  engaged," 
said  Mr.  Chester,  "  that  I  shall  be  glad  to  wait  his 
convenience  here,  and  to  see  him  (if  he  will  call)  at 
any  time  this  evening.  —  At  the  worst  I  can  have  a 
bed  here,  Willet,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Old  John,  immensely  flattered  by  the  personal 
notoriety  implied  in  this  familiar  form  of  address, 
answered,  with  something  like  a  knowing  look,  "  I 
should  believe  you  could,  sir,"  and  was  turning  over 
in  his  mind  various  forms  of  eulogiura,  with  the 
view  of  selecting  one  appropriate  to  the  qualities  of 
his  best  bed,  when  his  ideas  were  put  to  flight  by 
Mr.  Chester  giving  Barnaby  the  letter,  and  bidding 
him  make  all  speed  away. 


122  BAKXABY  EUDQE. 

"  Speed !  "  said  Barnaby,  folding  the  little  packet 
in  his  breast.  "  Speed !  If  you  want  to  see  hurry 
and  mystery,  come  here.     Here  ! " 

With  that,  he  put  his  hand,  very  much  to  John 
Willet's  horror,  on  the  guest's  fine  broadcloth  sleeve, 
and  led  him  stealthily  to  the  back-window. 

"  Look  down  there,"  he  said  softly.  "  Do  you  mark 
how  they  whisper  in  each  other's  ears ;  then  dance  and 
leap,  to  make  believe  they  are  in  sport  ?  Do  you 
see  how  they  stop  for  a  moment,  when  they  think 
there  is  no  one  looking,  and  mutter  among  them- 
selves again;  and  then  how  they  roll  and  gambol, 
delighted  with  the  mischief  they've  been  plotting  ? 
Look  at  'em  now.  See  how  they  whirl  and  plunge. 
And  now  they  stop  again,  and  whisper  cautiously 
together  —  little  thinking,  mind,  how  often  I  have 
lain  upon  the  grass  and  watched  them.  I  say  — 
what  is  it  that  they  plot  and  hatch  ?  Do  you 
know  ?  " 

'•'  They  are  only  clothes,"  returned  the  guest, 
"  such  as  we  wear ;  hanging  on  those  lines  to  dry, 
and  fluttering  in  the  wind." 

"  Clothes  !  "  echoed  Barnaby,  looking  close  into 
his  face,  and  falling  quickly  back.  "Ha!  ha! 
Why,  how  much  better  to  be  silly  than  as  wise  as 
you !  You  don't  see  shadowy  people  there,  like 
those  that  live  in  sleep  —  not  you  !  iSTor  eyes  in  the 
knotted  panes  of  glass,  nor  swift  ghosts  when  it 
blows  hard,  nor  do  you  hear  voices  in  the  air,  nor 
see  men  stalking  in  the  sky  —  not  you !  I  lead  a 
merrier  life  than  you,  with  all  your  cleverness. 
You're  the  dull  men.  We're  the  bright  ones.  Ha! 
ha  I  I'll  not  change  with  you,  clever  as  you  are,  — 
not  I ! " 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  123 

With  that,  he  waved  his  hat  above  his  head,  and 
darted  off. 

'•  A  strange  creature,  npon  my  word  ! "  said  the 
guest,  pulling  out  a  handsome  box,  and  taking  a 
pinch  of  snuff. 

"He  wants  imagination,"  said  Mr.  "Willet,  very 
slowly  and  after  a  long  silence  ;  "  that's  what  he 
wants.  I've  tried  to  instil  it  into  him,  many  and 
many's  the  time ;  but  "  —  John  added  this  in  confi- 
dence —  "  he  ain't  made  for  it ;  that's  the  fact." 

To  record  that  Mr.  Chester  smiled  at  John's 
remark  would  be  little  to  the  purpose,  for  he  pre- 
served the  same  conciliatory  and  pleasant  look  at  all 
times.  He  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  the  fire,  though, 
as"  a  kind  of  hint  that  he  would  prefer  to  be  alone, 
and  John,  having  no  reasonable  excuse  for  remain- 
ing, left  him  to  himself. 

Very  thoughtful  old  John  Willet  was  while  the 
dinner  was  preparing;  and  if  his  brain  were  ever 
less  clear  at  one  time  than  another,  it  is  but  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  he  addled  it  in  no  slight  degree 
by  shaking  his  head  so  much  that  day.  That  Mr. 
Chester,  between  whom  and  Mr.  Haredale,  it  was 
notorious  to  all  the  neighborhood,  a  deep  and  bitter 
animosity  existed,  should  come  down  there  for  the 
sole  purpose,  as  it  seemed,  of  seeing  him,  and  should 
choose  the  Maypole  for  their  place  of  meeting,  and 
should  send  to  him  express,  were  stumbling-blocks 
John  could  not  overcome.  The  only  resource  he  had 
was  to  consult  the  boiler,  and  wait  impatiently  for 
Barnaby's  return. 

But  Barnaby  delayed  beyond  all  precedent.  The 
visitor's  dinner  was  served,  removed,  his  wine  was 
set,  the  fire  replenished,  the  hearth   clean  swept; 


124  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

the  light  waned  without,  it  grew  dusk,  became  quite 
dark,  and  still  no  Barnaby  appeared.  Yet,  though 
John  Willet  was  full  of  wonder  and  misgiving,  his 
guest  sat  cross-legged  in  the  easy-chair,  to  all  appear- 
ance as  little  ruffled  in  his  thoughts  as  in  his  dress 
—  the  same  calm,  easy,  cool  gentleman,  without  a 
care  or  thought  beyond  his  golden  toothpick. 

"  Barnaby's  late,"  John  ventured  to  observe,  as  he 
placed  a  pair  of  tarnished  candlesticks,  some  three 
feet  high,  upon  the  table,  and  snuffed  the  lights  they 
held. 

"  He  is  rather  so,"  replied  the  guest,  sipping  his 
wine.     "  He  will  not  be  much  longer  I  dare  say." 

John  coughed,  and  raked  the  fire  together. 

"  As  your  roads  bear  no  very  good  character,  if  I 
may  judge  from  my  son's  mishap,  though,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  "  and  as  I  have  no  fancy  to  be  knocked  on 
the  head  —  which  is  not  only  disconcerting  at  the 
moment,  but  places  one,  besides,  in  a  ridiculous 
position  with  respect  to  the  people  who  chance  to 
pick  one  up  —  I  shall  stop  here  to-night.  I  think 
you  said  you  had  a  bed  to  spare." 

"  Such  a  bed,  sir,"  returned  John  Willot ;  "  ay, 
such  a  bed  as  few,  even  of  the  gentry's  houses,  own. 
A  fixter  here,  sir.  I've  heard  say  that  bedstead  is 
nigh  two  hundred  years  of  age.  Your  noble  son  — 
a  fine  young  gentleman  —  slept  in  it  last,  sir,  half  a 
year  ago." 

"  Upon  my  life,  a  recommendation ! "  said  the 
guest,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and  wheeling  his 
chair  nearer  to  the  fire.  "  See  that  it  be  well  aired, 
Mr.  Willet,  and  let  a  blazing  fire  be  lighted  there  at 
once.     This  house  is  something  damp  and  chilly." 

John  raked  the  fagots  up  again,  more  from  habit 


BARNABY  PvUDGE.  125 

than  presence  of  mind,  or  any  reference  to  this 
remark,  and  was  about  to  withdraw,  when  a  bound- 
ing step  was  heard  upon  the  stair,  and  Barnaby 
came  panting  in. 

"  He'll  have  his  foot  in  the  stirrup  in  an  hour's 
time,"  he  cried,  advancing.  "He  has  been  riding 
hard  all  day  — has  just  come  home  —  but  will  be  in 
the  saddle  again  as  soon  as  he  has  ate  and  drank,  to 
meet  his  loving  friend." 

'•'  Was  that  his  message  ?  "  asked  the  visitor,  look- 
ing up,  but  without  the  smallest  discomposure  —  or 
at  least  without  the  smallest  show  of  any. 

"  All  but  the  last  words,"  Barnaby  rejoined.  *'  He 
meant  those.     I  saw  that  in  his  face." 

"This  for  your  pains,"  said  the  other,  putting 
money  in  his  hand,  and  glancing  at  him  steadfastly. 
"  This  for  your  pains,  sharp  Barnaby." 

"  For  Grip,  and  me,  and  Hugh,  to  share  among  us," 
he  rejoined,  putting  it  up,  and  nodding,  as  he  counted 
it  on  his  fingers.  "  Grip  one,  me  two,  Hugh 
three ;  the  dog,  the  goat,  the  cats  —  well,  we  shall 
spend  it  pretty  soon,  I  warn  you.  Stay.  Look. 
Do  you  wise  men  see  nothing  there  now  ?  " 

He  bent  eagerly  down  on  one  knee,  and  gazed 
intently  at  the  smoke,  which  was  rolling  up  the 
chimney  in  a  thick  black  cloud.  John  Willet,  who 
appeared  to  consider  himself  particularly  and  chiefly 
referred  to  under  the  term  wise  men,  looked  that 
way  likewise,  and  with  great  solidity  of  feature. 

"  Now,  Avhere  do  they  go  to  when  they  spring  so 
fast  up  there,"  asked  Barnaby ;  "  eh  ?  Why  do 
they  tread  so  closely  on  each  other's  heels,  and  why 
are  they  always  in  a  hurry  ?  —  which  is  what  you 
blame  me  for,  when  I  only  take  pattern  by  these 


126  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

busy  folk  about  me.  More  of  'em !  catching  to 
each  other's  skirts ;  and  as  fast  as  they  go,  others 
come  !  What  a  merry  dance  it  is !  I  would  that 
Grip  and  I  could  frisk  like  that  I " 

"  What  has  he  in  that  basket  at  his  back  ?  "  asked 
the  guest  after  a  few  moments,  during  which  Barn- 
aby  was  still  bending  down  to  look  higher  up  the 
chimney,  and  earnestly  watching  the  smoke. 

"  In  this  ?  "  he  answered,  jumping  up  before  John 
Willet  could  rejDly  —  shaking  it  as  he  spoke,  and 
stooping  his  head  to  listen.  "  In  this  ?  What  is 
there  here  ?     Tell  him  ! " 

"■  A  devil,  a  devil,  a  devil  I  "  cried  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Here's  monej^ ! "  said  Barnaby,  chinking  it  in 
his  hand,  "  money  for  a  treat,  Grip  ! " 

"  Hurrah !  hurrah !  hurrah  ! "  replied  the  raven  ; 
"  keep  up  your  spirits.  Never  say  die.  Bow,  wow, 
wow ! " 

Mr.  Willet,  who  appeared  to  entertain  strong 
doubts  whether  a  customer  in  a  laced  coat  and  fine 
linen  could  be  supposed  to  have  any  acquaintance 
even  with  the  existence  of  such  unpolite  gentry  as 
the  bird  claimed  to  belong  to,  took  Barnaby  off  at 
this  juncture,  with  the  view  of  preventing  any  other 
improper  declarations,  and  quitted  the  room  with 
his  very  best  bow. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

There  was  great  news  that  night  for  the  regular 
Maypole  customers,  to  each  of  whom,  as  he  straggled 
in  to  occupy  his  allotted  seat  in  the  chimney-corner, 
John,  with  a  most  impressive  slowness  of  delivery, 
and  in  an  apoplectic  whisper,  communicated  the  fact 
that  Mr.  Chester  was  alone  in  the  large  room  up- 
stairs, and  was  waiting  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Geoffrey 
Haredale,  to  whom  he  had  sent  a  letter  (doubtless 
of  a  threatening  nature)  by  the  hands  of  Barnaby, 
then  and  there  present. 

For  a  little  knot  of  smokers  and  solemn  gossips, 
who  had  seldom  any  new  topics  of  discussion,  this 
was  a  perfect  godsend.  Here  was  a  good,  dark-looking 
mystery  progressing  under  that  very  roof — brought 
home  to  the  fireside  as  it  were,  and  enjoyable  with- 
out the  smallest  pains  or  trouble.  It  is  extraordi- 
nary what  a  zest  and  relish  it  gave  to  the  drink,  and 
how  it  heightened  the  flavor  of  the  tobacco.  Every 
man  smoked  his  pipe  with  a  face  of  grave  and 
serious  delight,  and  looked  at  his  neighbor  with  a 
sort  of  quiet  congratulation.  Nay,  it  was  felt  to  be 
such  a  holiday  and  special  night,  that,  on  the  motion 
of  little  Solomon  Daisy,  every  man  (including  John 
himself)  put  down  his  sixpence  for  a  can  of  flip, 
which  grateful  beverage  was  brewed  with  all  de- 
127 


128  BAEXABY   KUDGE. 

spatch,  and  set  clown  in  the  midst  of  them  on  the 
brick  floor;  both  that  it  might  simmer  and  steAV 
before  the  fire,  and  that  its  fragrant  steam,  rising 
up  among  them  and  mixing  with  the  wreatlis  of 
vapor  from  their  pipes,  might  shroud  them  in  a 
delicious  atmosphere  of  their  own,  and  shut  oi;t  all 
the  world.  The  very  furniture  of  the  room  seemed 
to  mellow  and  deepen  in  its  tone ;  the  ceiling  and 
walls  looked  blacker  and  more  highly  polished,  the 
curtains  of  a  ruddier  red ;  the  fire  burnt  clear  and 
high,  and  the  crickets  in  the  hearthstone  chirped 
with  a  more  than  wonted  satisfaction. 

There  were  present  two,  however,  who  showed 
but  little  interest  in  the  general  contentment.  Of 
these,  one  was  Barnaby  himself,  who  slept,  or  to 
avoid  being  beset  with  questions,  feigned  to  sleep, 
in  the  chimney-corner ;  the  other,  Hugh,  who,  sleep- 
ing too,  lay  stretched  upon  the  bench  on  the  opposite 
side,  in  the  full  glare  of  the  blazing  fire. 

The  light  that  fell  upon  this  slumbering  form 
showed  it  in  all  its  muscular  and  handsome  propor- 
tions. It  was  that  of  a  young  man,  of  a  hale  ath- 
letic figure  and  a  giant's  strength,  whose  sunburnt 
face  and  swarthy  throat,  overgrown  with  jet-black 
hair,  might  have  served  a  painter  for  a  model. 
Loosely  attired,  in  the  coarsest  and  roughest  garb, 
with  scraps  of  straw  and  hay  —  his  usual  bed — • 
clinging  here  and  there,  and  mingling  with  his 
uncombed  locks,  he  had  fallen  asleep  in  a  posture 
as  careless  as  his  dress.  The  negligence  and  dis- 
order of  the  whole  man,  with  something  fierce  and 
sullen  in  his  features,  gave  him  a  picturesque  ap- 
pearance, that  attracted  the  regards  even  of  the 
Maypole  customers  who  knew  him  well,  and  caused 


BAENABY  KUDGE.  129 

Long  Parkes  to  say  that  Hugh  looked  more  like  a 
poaching  rascal  to-night  than  ever  he  had  seen  him  yet. 

''He's  waiting  here,  I  suppose,"  said  Solomon, 
"to  take  Mr.  Haredale's  horse." 

'•'  That's  it,  sir,"  replied  John  Willet.  "  He's  not 
often  in  the  house,  you  know.  He's  more  at  his 
ease  among  horses  than  men.  I  look  upon  him  as  a 
animal  himself." 

Following  up  this  opinion  with  a  shrug  that 
seemed  meant  to  say,  "We  can't  expect  every- 
body to  be  like  us,"  John  put  his  pipe  into  his 
mouth  again,  and  smoked  like  one  who  felt  his 
superiority  over  the  general  run  of  mankind. 

"  That  chap,  sir,"  said  John,  taking  it  out  again 
after  a  time,  and  pointing  at  him  with  the  stem, 
"though  he's  got  all  his  faculties  about  him  — 
bottled  up  and  corked  down,  if  T  may  say  so, 
somewheres  or  another  —  " 

"Very  good!"  said  Parkes,  nodding  his  head. 
"A  very  good  expression,  Johnny.  You'll  be  a 
tackling  somebody  presently.  You're  in  twig  to- 
night, I  see." 

"  Take  care,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  not  at  all  grateful 
for  the  compliment,  "that  I  don't  tackle  you,  sir, 
which  I  shall  certainly  endeavor  to  do,  if  you  inter- 
rupt me  when  I'm  making  observations.  —  That 
chap,  I  was  a  saying,  though  he  has  all  his  facul- 
ties about  him,  somewheres  or  another,  bottled  up 
and  corked  down,  has  no  more  imagination  than 
Barnaby  has.     And  why  hasn't  he  ?  " 

The  three  friends  shook  their  heads  at  each  other ; 
saying  by  that  action,  without  the  trouble  of  open- 
ing their  lips,  "  Do  you  observe  what  a  philosophical 
mind  our  friend  has  ?  " 

VOL.  I.-9. 


130  BAENABY  KUDGE. 

''  Wliy  hasn't  he  ? "  said  John,  gently  striking 
the  table  with  his  open  hand.  "  Because  they  were 
never  drawed  out  of  him  when  he  was  a  boy.  That's 
why.  What  would  any  of  us  have  been,  if  our 
fathers  hadn't  drawed  our  faculties  out  of  us  ? 
What  would  my  boy  Joe  have  been,  if  I  hadn't 
drawed  his  faculties  out  of  him  ?  —  Do  you  mind 
what  I'm  a  saying  of,  gentlemen  ?  " 

"Ah!  we  mind  you,"  cried  Parkes.  "Go  on  im- 
proving of  us,  Johnny." 

"Consequently,  then,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  "that 
chap,  whose  mother  was  hung  when  he  was  a  lit- 
tle boy,  along  with  six  others,  for  passing  bad  notes 
—  and  it's  a  blessed  thing  to  think  how  many  people 
are  hung  in  batches  every  six  weeks  for  that  and 
such-like  offences,  as  showing  how  wide  awake  our 
government  is  —  that  chap  was  then  turned  loose, 
and  had  to  mind  cows,  and  frighten  birds  away,  and 
what  not,  for  a  few  pence  to  live  on,  and  so  got  on 
by  degrees  to  mind  horses,  and  to  sleep  in  course  of 
time  in  lofts  and  litter,  instead  of  under  haystacks 
and  hedges,  till  at  last  he  come  to  be  hostler  at  the 
]Ma3-pole  for  his  board  and  lodging  and  a  annual 
trifle  —  that  chap  that  can't  read  nor  write,  and  has 
never  had  much  to  do  with  anything  but  animals, 
and  has  never  lived  in  any  way  but  like  the  animals 
he  has  lived  among,  As  a  animal.  And,"  said  Mr. 
Willet,  arriving  at  his  logical  conclusion,  "  is  to  be 
treated  accordingly." 

"  Willet,"  said  Solomon  Daisy,  who  had  exhibited 
some  impatience  at  the  intrusion  of  so  unworthy  a 
subject  on  their  more  interesting  theme,  "  when  Mr. 
Chester  come  this  morning,  did  he  order  the  large 

rnriTn  "?  " 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  131 

"  He  signified,  sir,"  said  John,  "  that  he  wanted  a 
large  apartment.     Yes.     Certainly." 

"Why,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Solomon, 
speaking  softly  and  with  an  earnest  look.  "  He  and 
Mr.  Haredale  are  going  to  fight  a  duel  in  it." 

Everybody  looked  at  Mr.  Willet  after  this  alarm- 
ing suggestion.  Mr.  Willet  looked  at  the  fire,  weigh- 
ing in  his  own  mind  the  effect  which  such  an  occur- 
rence would  be  likely  to  have  on  the  establishment. 

"Well,"  said  John,  "I  don't  know  —  I  am  sure  — 
I  remember  that  when  I  went  up  last,  he  had  put 
the  lights  upon  the  mantelshelf." 

"It's  as  plain,"  returned  Solomon,  "as  the  nose 
on  Parkes's  face"  —  Mr.  Parkes,  who  had  a  large 
nose,  rubbed  it,  and  looked  as  if  he  considered  this 
a  personal  allusion  —  "they'll  fight  in  that  room. 
You  know  by  the  newspapers  what  a  common  thing 
it  is  for  gentlemen  to  fight  in  coffee-houses,  without 
seconds.  One  of  'em  will  be  wounded,  or  perhaps 
killed,  in  this  house." 

"That  was  a  challenge  that  Barnaby  took  then, 
eh  ?  "  said  John. 

"  —  Enclosing  a  slip  of  paper  with  the  measure  of 
his  sword  upon  it,  I'll  bet  a  guinea ! "  answered  the 
little  man.  "We  know  what  sort  of  gentleman  Mr. 
Haredale  is.  You  have  told  us  what  Barnaby  said 
about  his  looks  when  he  came  back.  Depend  upon 
it  I'm  right.     Now,  mind." 

The  flip  had  had  no  flavor  till  now.  The  tobacco 
had  been  of  mere  English  growth,  compared  with 
its  present  taste.  A  duel  in  that  great  old  rambling 
room  upstairs,  and  the  best  bed  ordered  already  for 
the  wounded  man ! 

"  Would  it  be  swords  or  pistols  now  ?  "  said  John. 


132  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Heaven  knows.  Perhaps  both,"  returned  Solo- 
mon. "  The  gentlemen  wear  swords,  and  may  easily 
have  pistols  in  their  pockets  —  most  likely  have, 
indeed.  If  they  fire  at  each  other  without  effect, 
then  they'll  draw,  and  go  to  work  in  earnest." 

A  shade  passed  over  Mr.  Willet's  face  as  he 
thought  of  broken  windows  and  disabled  furniture, 
but  bethinking  himself  that  one  of  the  parties  would 
probably  be  left  alive  to  pay  the  damage,  he  bright- 
ened up  again. 

"And  then,"  said  Solomon,  looking  from  face  to 
face,  "  then  we  shall  have  one  of  those  stains  upon 
the  floor  that  never  come  out.  If  Mr.  Haredale 
wins,  depend  upon  it,  it'll  be  a  deep  one;  or  if  he 
loses,  it  will  perhaps  be  deeper  still,  for  he'll  never 
give  in  unless  he's  beaten  down.  We  know  hini 
better,  eh  ?  " 

"  Better  indeed ! "  they  whispered  all  together. 

"As  to  its  ever  being  got  out  again,"  said  Solo- 
mon, "  I  tell  you  it  never  will,  or  can  be.  Why,  do 
you  know  that  it  has  been  tried  at  a  certain  house 
we  are  acquainted  with  ?  " 

"  The  Warren  ?  "  cried  John.     "  No,  sure  !  " 

"Yes,  sure  —  yes.  It's  only  known  by  very  few. 
It  has  been  whispered  about,  though,  for  all  that. 
They  planed  the  board  away,  but  there  it  was. 
They  went  deep,  but  it  went  deeper.  They  put 
new  boards  down,  but  there  was  one  great  spot  that 
came  through  still,  and  showed  itself  in  the  old 
place.  And  —  harky e  —  draw  nearer  —  Mr.  Geoffrey 
made  that  room  his  study,  and  sits  there  always, 
with  his  foot  (as  I  have  heard)  upon  it;  and  he 
believes,  through  thinking  of  it  long  and  very  much, 
that  it  will  never  fade  until  he  finds  the  man  who 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  133 

did  the  deed."  As,  this  recital  ended,  and  they  all 
drew  closer  round  the  fire,  the  tramp  of  a  horse  was 
heard  without. 

"  The  very  man ! "  cried  John,  starting  up. 
"Hugh!  Hugh!" 

The  sleeper  staggered  to  his  feet,  and  hurried  after 
him.  John  quickly  returned,  ushering  in  with  great 
attention  and  deference  (for  Mr.  Haredale  was  his 
landlord)  the  long-expected  visitor,  who  strode  into 
the  room  clanking  his  heavy  boots  upon  the  floor; 
and  looking  keenly  round  upon  the  bowing  group, 
raised  his  hat  in  acknowledgment  of  their  profound 
respect. 

"  You  have  a  stranger  here,  Willet,  who  sent  to 
me,"  he  said  in  a  voice  which  sounded  naturally 
stern  and  deep.     "  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  the  great  room  upstairs,  sir,"  answered  John. 

"  Show  the  way.  Your  staircase  is  dark,  I  know. 
Gentlemen,  good-night." 

"With  that,  he  signed  to  the  landlord  to  go  on 
before ;  and  went  clanking  out,  and  up  the  stairs ; 
old  John,  in  his  agitation,  ingeniously  lighting 
everything  but  the  way,  and  making  a  stumble  at 
every  second  step. 

"  Stop ! "  he  said,  when  they  reached  the  landing. 
"I  can  announce  myself.     Don't  wait." 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  the  door,  entered,  and  shut 
it  heavily.  Mr.  Willet  was  by  no  means  disposed 
to  stand  there  listening  by  himself,  especially  as  the 
walls  were  very  thick ;  so  descended  with  much 
greater  alacrity  than  he  had  come  up,  and  joined 
his  friends  below. 


CHAPTER   XIL 

There  was  a  brief  pause  in  the  state-room  of  the 
Maypole,  as  Mr.  Haredale  tried  the  lock  to  satisfy 
himself  that  he  had  shut  the  door  securely,  and, 
striding  up  the  dark  chamber  to  where  the  screen 
enclosed  a  little  patch  of  light  and  warmth,  pre- 
sented himself,  abruptly  and  in  silence,  before  the 
smiling  guest. 

If  the  two  had  no  greater  sympathy  in  their  in- 
ward thoughts  than  in  their  outward  bearing  and 
appearance,  the  meeting  did  not  seem  likely  to  prove 
a  very  calm  or  pleasant  one.  With  no  great  dis- 
parity between  them  in  point  of  years,  they  were, 
in  every  other  respect,  as  unlike  and  far  removed 
from  each  other  as  two  men  could  well  be.  The 
one  was  soft-spoken,  delicately  made,  precise,  and 
elegant ;  the  other,  a  burly  square-built  man,  negli- 
gently dressed,  rough  and  abrupt  in  manner,  stern, 
and,  in  his  present  mood,  forbidding  both  in  look 
and  speech.  The  one  preserved  a  calm  and  placid 
smile ;  the  other,  a  distrustful  frown.  The  new- 
comer, indeed,  appeared  bent  on  showing,  by  his 
every  tone  and  gesture,  his  determined  opposition 
and  hostility  to  the  man  he  had  come  to  meet.  The 
guest  who  received  him,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed 
to  feel  that  the  contrast  between  them  was  all  in 
134 


BAKNABY   BIJDGE.  135 

his  favor,  and  to  derive  a  quiet  exultation  from  it 
which  put  him  more  at  his  ease  than  ever. 

"Haredale,"  said  this  gentleman,  without  the 
least  appearance  of  embarrassment  or  reserve,  "  I 
am  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"Let  us  dispense  with  compliments.  They  are 
misplaced  between  us,"  returned  the  other,  waving 
his  hand,  "and  say  plainly  what  we  have  to  say. 
You  have  asked  me  to  meet  you.  I  am  here.  Why 
do  we  stand  face  to  face  again  ?  " 

"  Still  the  same  frank  and  sturdy  character,  I 
see ! " 

"  Good  or  bad,  sir,  I  am,"  returned  the  other, 
leaning  his  arm  upon  the  chimney-piece,  and  turn- 
ing a  haughty  look  upon  the  occupant  of  the  easy- 
chair,  "  the  man  I  used  to  be.  I  have  lost  no  old 
likings  or  dislikings  ;  my  memory  has  not  failed 
me  by  a  hair's-breadth.  You  ask  me  to  give  you  a 
meeting.     I  say,  I  am  here." 

"  Our  meeting,  Haredale,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  tap. 
ping  his  snuff-box,  and  following  with  a  smile  the 
impatient  gesture  he  had  made  —  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously —  towards  his  sword,  "  is  one  of  conference 
and  peace,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  here,"  returned  the  other,  "  at  your 
desire,  holding  myself  bound  to  meet  you  when  and 
where  you  would.  I  have  not  come  to  bandy  pleas- 
ant speeches,  or  hollow  professions.  You  are  a 
smooth  man  of  the  world,  sir,  and  at  such  play  have 
me  at  a  disadvantage.  The  very  last  man  on  this 
earth  with  whom  I  would  enter  the  lists  to  combat 
with  gentle  compliments  and  masked  faces  is  Mr. 
Chester,  I  do  assure  you.  I  am  not  his  match  at 
such  weapons,  and  have  reason  to  believe  that  few 
men  are." 


136  BAKNABY   RUDGE. 

''  Yoli  do  me  a  great  deal  of  honor,  Haredale," 
returned  the  other  most  composedly,  "  and  I  thank 
you.     I  will  be  frank  with  you  —  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  —  will  be  what  ?  " 

"  Frank  —  open  —  perfectly  candid." 

"  Hah ! "  cried  Mr.  Haredale,  drawing  in  his  breath. 
"  But  don't  let  me  interrupt  you." 

"So  resolved  am  I  to  hold  this  course,"  returned 
the  other,  tasting  his  wine  with  great  deliberation, 
*'  that  I  have  determined  not  to  quarrel  with  you, 
and  not  to  be  betrayed  into  a  warm  expression  or  a 
hasty  word." 

"There  again,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "you  will  have 
me  at  a  great  advantage.     Your  self-command  —  " 

"Is  not  to  be  disturbed,  when  it  will  serve  my 
purpose,  you  would  say,"  rejoined  the  other,  inter- 
rupting him  with  the  same  complacency.  "  Granted. 
I  allow  it.  And  I  have  a  purpose  to  serve  now.  So 
have  you.  I  am  sure  our  object  is  the  same.  Let 
us  attain  it  like  sensible  men,  who  have  ceased  to  be 
boys  some  time.  —  Do  you  drink  ?  " 

"  With  my  friends,"  returned  the  other. 

"At  least,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "you  will  be 
seated  ?  " 

"I  will  stand,"  returned  Mr.  Haredale  impa- 
tiently, "on  this  dismantled  beggared  hearth,  and 
not  pollute  it,  fallen  as  it  is,  with  mockeries.  Go 
on!" 

"  You  are  wrong,  Haredale,"  said  the  other,  cross- 
ing his  legs,  and  smiling  as  he  held  his  glass  up  in 
the  bright  glow  of  the  lire.  "  You  are  really  very 
wrong.  The  world  is  a  lively  place  enough,  in  which 
we  must  accommodate  ourselves  to  circumstances, 
sail  with  the  stream  as  glibly  as  we  can,  be  content 


BAENABY   RUDGE.  137 

to  take  froth  for  substance,  the  surface  for  the  depth, 
the  counterfeit  for  the  real  coin.  I  wonder  no  phil- 
osopher has  ever  established  that  our  globe  itself  is 
hollow.  It  should  be,  if  oSTature  is  consistent  in  her 
works." 

"  You  think  it  is,  perhaps  ?  " 

"I  should  say,"  he  returned,  sipping  his  wine, 
"there  could  be  no  doubt  about  it.  Well;  we,  in 
our  trifling  with  this  jingling  toy,  have  had  the  ill 
luck  to  jostle  and  fall  out.  We  are  not  what  the 
world  calls  friends ;  but  we  are  as  good  and  true 
and  loving  friends,  for  all  that,  as  nine  out  of  every 
ten  of  those  on  whom  it  bestows  the  title.  You 
have  a  niece,  and  I  a  son  —  a  fine  lad,  Haredale, 
but  foolish.  They  fall  in  love  with  each  other,  and 
form  what  this  same  world  calls  an  attachment; 
meaning  a  something  fanciful  and  false  like  all  the 
rest,  which,  if  it  took  its  own  free  time,  would  break 
like  any  other  bubble.  But  it  may  not  have  its  own 
free  time — will  not,  if  they  are  left  alone — and 
the  question  is,  shall  we  two,  because  society  calls 
us  enemies,  stand  aloof,  and  let  them  rush  into  each 
other's  arms,  when,  by  approaching  each  other  sen- 
sibly, as  we  do  now,  we  can  prevent  it,  and  part 
them  ?  " 

"  I  love  my  niece,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  after  a  short 
silence.  '•'  It  may  sound  strangely  in  your  ears  ;  but 
I  love  her." 

"Strangely,  my  good  fellow!"  cried  Mr.  Chester, 
lazily  filling  his  glass  again,  and  pulling  out  his 
toothpick.  "  Xot  at  all.  I  like  Xed  too  —  or,  as 
you  say,  love  him  —  that's  the  word  among  such 
near  relations.  I'm  very  fond  of  Ned.  He's  an 
amazingly  good  felloAv,  and  a  handsome  fellow  — 


138  BARKABY  EUDGE. 

foolish  and  weak  as  yet ;  that's  all.  But  the  thing 
is,  Haredale  —  for  I'll  be  very  frank,  as  I  told  you  I 
would  at  first  —  independently  of  any  dislike  that 
you  and  I  might  have  to  being  related  to  each  other, 
and  independently  of  the  religious  differences  be- 
tween us  —  and  damn  it,  that's  important  —  I 
couldn't  afford  a  match  of  this  description.  Ned 
and  I  couldn't  do  it.     It's  impossible." 

"  Curb  your  tongue,  in  God's  name,  if  this  conver- 
sation is  to  last,"  retorted  Mr.  Haredale  fiercely. 
"I  have  said  I  love  my  niece.  Do  you  think  that, 
loving  her,  I  would  have  her  fling  her  heart  away  on 
any  man  who  had  your  blood  in  his  veins  ?  " 

"You  see,"  said  the  other,  not  at  all  disturbed, 
"the  advantage  of  being  so  frank  and  open.  Just 
what  I  was  about  to  add,  upon  my  honor  !  I  am 
amazingly  attached  to  Xed — quite  dote  upon  him, 
indeed  —  and  even  if  we  could  afford  to  throw  our- 
selves away,  that  very  objection  would  be  quite 
insuperable.  —  I  wish  you'd  take  some  wine." 

"  Mark  me,"  said  ]\[r.  Haredale,  striding  to  the 
table,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  it  heavily.  "If 
any  man  believes  —  presumes  to  think  —  that  I,  in 
word  or  deed,  or  in  the  wildest  dream,  ever  enter- 
tained remotely  the  idea  of  Emma  Haredale's  favor- 
ing the  suit  of  one  who  was  akin  to  you  —  in  any 
way  —  I  care  not  what  —  he  lies.  He  lies,  and  does 
me  grievous  wrong,  in  the  mere  thought." 

"  Haredale,"  returned  the  other,  rocking  himself 
to  and  fro  as  in  assent,  and  nodding  at  the  fire,  "  it's 
extremely  manly,  and  really  very  generous  in  you, 
to  meet  me  in  this  unreserved  and  handsome  way. 
U])on  my  word,  those  are  exactly  my  sentiments, 
only  expressed  with  much  more  force  and  power 


BAPvNABY  RUDGE.  139 

than  I  could  use  —  you  know  my  sluggish  nature, 
and  will  forgive  me,  I  am  sure." 

"  While  I  would  restrain  her  from  all  correspond- 
ence with  your  son,  and  sever  their  intercourse  here, 
though  it  should  cause  her  death,"  said  Mr.  Hare- 
dale,  who  had  been  pacing  to  and  fro,  "  I  would  do 
it  kindly  and  tenderly  if  I  can.  I  have  a  trust  to 
discharge  which  my  nature  is  not  formed  to  under- 
stand, and,  for  this  reason,  the  bare  fact  of  there 
being  any  love  between  them  comes  upon  me  to-night 
almost  for  the  first  time." 

"I  am  more  delighted  than  I  can  possibly  tell 
you,"  rejoined  Mr.  Chester  with  the  utmost  bland- 
ness,  "  to  find  my  own  impression  so  confirmed. 
You  see  the  advantage  of  our  having  met.  We 
understand  each  other.  We  quite  agree.  We  have 
a  most  complete  and  thorough  explanation,  and  we 
know  what  course  to  take.  —  Why  don't  you  taste 
your  tenant's  wine  ?     It's  really  very  good." 

"Pray  who,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "have  aided 
Emma  or  your  son  ?  Who  are  their  go-betweens 
and  agents  —  do  you  know  ?  " 

"All  the  good  people  hereabouts  —  the  neighbor- 
hood in  general,  I  think,"  returned  the  other  with 
his  most  affable  smile.  "  The  messenger  I  sent  you 
to-day  foremost  among  them  all." 

"  The  idiot  ?     Barnaby  ?  " 

"  You  are  surprised  ?  I  am  glad  of  that,  for  I 
was  rather  so  myself.  Yes.  I  wrung  that  from  his 
mother — a  very  decent  sort  of  woman — from  whom, 
indeed,  I  chiefly  learnt  how  serious  the  matter  had 
become,  and  so  determined  to  ride  out  here  to-day, 
and  hold  a  parley  with  you  on  this  neutral  ground. 
—  You're  stouter  than  you  used  to  be,  Haredale, 
but  you  look  extremely  well." 


140  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

"  Our  business,  I  presume,  is  nearly  at  an  end," 
said  Mr.  Haredale  with  an  expression  of  impatience 
he  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal.  "Trust  me,  Mr. 
Chester,  my  niece  shall  change  from  this  time.  I 
will  appeal,"  he  added  in  a  lower  tone,  "to  her 
woman's  heart,  her  dignitj?^,  lier  pride,  her  duty  —  " 

''  I  shall  do  the  same  by  Ned,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
restoring  some  errant  fagots  to  their  places  in  the 
grate  with  the  toe  of  his  boot.  "  If  there  is  any- 
thing real  in  the  world,  it  is  those  amazingly  fine 
feelings  and  those  natural  obligations  which  must 
subsist  between  father  and  son.  I  shall  put  it  to 
him  on  every  ground  of  moral  and  religious  feeling. 
I  shall  represent  to  him  that  we  cannot  possibly 
aiford  it  —  that  I  have  always  looked  forward  to  his 
marrying  well,  for  a  genteel  provision  for  myself  in 
the  autumn  of  life  —  that  there  are  a  great  many 
clamorous  dogs  to  pay,  whose  claims  are  perfectly 
just  and  right,  and  who  must  be  paid  out  of  his 
wife's  fortune.  In  short,  that  the  very  highest  and 
most  honorable  feelings  of  our  nature,  with  every 
consideration  of  filial  duty  and  affection,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing,  imperatively  demand  that  he 
should  run  away  with  an  heiress." 

"  And  break  her  heart  as  speedily  as  possible," 
said  Mr.  Haredale,  drawing  on  his  gloves. 

"There  Ned  will  act  exactly  as  he  pleases," 
returned  the  other,  sipping  his  wine;  "that's  entirely 
his  affair.  I  wouldn't  for  the  world  interfere  with 
my  son,  Haredale,  beyond  a  certain  point.  The 
relationship  between  father  and  son,  you  know,  is 
positively  quite  a  holy  kind  of  bond.  —  Won't  you 
let  me  persuade  you  to  take  one  glass  of  wine  ? 
Well  I  as  you  please,  as  you  please,"  he  added,  help- 
insr  himself  again. 


BARXABY   RTJDGE.  141 

"  Chester,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  after  a  short  silence, 
during  which  he  had  eyed  his  smiling  face  from 
time  to  time  intently,  "  you  have  the  head  and  heart 
of  an  evil  spirit  in  all  matters  of  deception." 

"  Your  health !  "  said  the  other  with  a  nod.  "  But 
I  have  interrupted  you  —  " 

"If  now,"  pursued  Mr.  Haredale,  "we  should  find 
it  difficult  to  separate  these  young  people,  and  break 
off  their  intercourse  —  if,  for  instance,  you  find  it 
difficult  on  your  side,  what  course  do  you  intend  to 
take  ?  " 

"  Nothing  plainer,  my  good  fellow,  nothing  easier," 
returned  the  other,  shrugging  his  shoulders  and 
stretching  himself  more  comfortably  before  the  fire. 
"  I  shall  then  exert  those  powers  on  which  you 
flatter  me  so  highly — though,  upon  my  word,  I 
don't  deserve  your  compliments  to  their  full  extent 

—  and  resort  to  a  few  little  trivial  subterfuges  for 
rousing  jealousy  and  resentment.     You  see  ?  " 

"  In  short,  justifying  the  means  by  the  end,  we 
are,  as  a  last  resource  for  tearing  them  asunder,  to 
resort  to  treachery  and  —  and  lying,"  said  Mr.  Hare- 
dale. 

"  Oh  dear  no !  Fie,  fie ! "  returned  the  other, 
relishing  a  pinch  of  snuff  extremely.  "aSTot  lying. 
Only  a  little  management,  a  little  diplomacy,  a  little 

—  intriguing,  that's  the  word." 

*'  I  wish,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  moving  to  and  fro, 
and  stopping  and  moving  on  again,  like  one  who  was 
ill  at  ease,  •'  that  this  could  have  been  foreseen  or 
prevented.  But  as  it  has  gone  so  far,  and  it  is 
necessary  for  us  to  act,  it  is  of  no  use  shrinking  or 
regretting.  Well !  I  shall  second  your  endeavors 
to  the  utmost  of  my  power.     There  is  one  topic  in 


142  BAHNABY  EUDGE. 

the  ■wliole  wide  range  of  human  thoughts  on  which 
we  both  agree.  We  shall  act  in  concert,  but  apart. 
There  will  be  no  need,  I  hope,  for  us  to  meet  again." 

"Are  you  going?"  said  Mr.  Chester,  rising  with 
a  graceful  indolence.  "  Let  me  light  you  down  the 
stairs." 

"  Pray  keep  your  seat,"  returned  the  other  dryly  ; 
'- 1  know  the  way."  So,  waving  his  hand  slightly, 
and  putting  on  his  hat  as  he  turned  upon  his  heel, 
he  went  clanking  out  as  he  had  come,  shut  the  door 
behind  him,  and  tramped  down  the  echoing  stairs. 

"Pah!  A  very  coarse  animal  indeed!"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  composing  himself  in  the  easy-chair  again. 
'•'  A  rough  brute.     Quite  a  human  badger  !  " 

John  Willet  and  his  friends,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing intently  for  the  clash  of  swords,  or  firing  of 
pistols  in  the  great  room,  and  had,  indeed,  settled 
the  order  in  which  they  should  rush  in  when  sum- 
moned —  in  Avhich  procession  old  John  had  carefully 
arranged  that  he  should  bring  iip  the  rear  —  were 
very  much  astonished  to  see  Mr.  Haredale  come 
down  without  a  scratch,  call  for  his  horse,  and  ride 
away  thoughtfully  at  a  foot-pace.  After  some  con- 
sideration, it  was  decided  that  he  had  left  the  gen- 
tleman above  for  dead,  and  had  adopted  this  strata- 
gem to  divert  suspicion  or  pursuit. 

As  this  conclusion  involved  the  necessity  of  their 
going  upstairs  forthwith,  they  were  about  to  ascend 
in  the  order  they  had  agreed  upon,  when  a  smart 
ringing  at  the  guest's  bell,  as  if  he  had  pulled  it 
vigorously,  overthrew  all  their  speculations,  and  in- 
volved them  in  great  uncertainty  and  doubt.  At 
length  Mr.  "Willet  agreed  to  go  upstairs  himself,  es- 
corted by  Hugh  and  Barnaby,  as  the  strongest  and 


BAENABY  EIJDGE.  143 

stoutest  fellows  on  the  premises,  who  were  to  make 
their  appearance  under  pretence  of  clearing  away 
the  glasses. 

Under  this  protection,  the  brave  and  broad-faced 
John  boldly  entered  the  room,  half  a  foot  in  ad- 
vance, and  received  an  order  for  a  bootjack  without 
trembling.  But  when  it  was  brought,  and  he  leant 
his  sturdy  shoulder  to  the  guest,  Mr.  Willet  was 
observed  to  look  very  hard  into  his  boots  as  he 
pulled  them  off,  and,  by  opening  his  eyes  much 
wider  than  usual,  to  appear  to  express  some  sur- 
prise and  disappointment  at  not  finding  them  full 
of  blood.  He  took  occasion,  too,  to  examine  the 
gentleman  as  closely  as  he  could,  expecting  to  dis- 
cover sundry  loopholes  in  his  person,  pierced  by  his 
adversary's  sword.  Finding  none,  however,  and 
observing  in  course  of  time  that  his  guest  was  as 
cool  and  unruffled,  both  in  his  dress  and  temper,  as  he 
had  been  all  day,  old  John  now  heaved  a  deep  sigh, 
and  began  to  think  no  duel  had  been  fought  that 
night. 

''And  now,  Willet,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "if  the 
room's  well  aired,  I'll  try  the  merits  of  that  famous 
bed." 

"  The  room,  sir,"  returned  John,  taking  up  a  can- 
dle, and  nudging  Barnaby  and  Hugh  to  accompany 
them,  in  case  the  gentleman  should  unexpectedly 
drop  down  faint  or  dead  from  some  internal  wound, 
"the  room's  as  warm  as  any  toast  in  a  tankard. 
Barnaby,  take  you  that  other  candle,  and  go  on 
before.  Hugh!  Follow  up,  sir,  with  the  easy- 
chair." 

In  this  order  —  and  still,  in  his  earnest  inspec- 
tion, holding  his   candle  very  close  to  the   guest  j 


144  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

now  making  him  feel  extremely  warm  about  the 
legs,  now  threatening  to  set  his  wig  on  fire,  and 
constantly  begging  his  pardon  with  great  awkward- 
ness and  embarrassment  —  John  led  the  party  to 
the  best  bedroom,  which  was  nearly  as  large  as  the 
chamber  from  which  they  had  come,  and  held, 
drawn  out  near  the  fire  for  warmth,  a  great  old 
spectral  bedstead,  hung  with  faded  brocade,  and 
ornamented  at  the  top  of  each  carved  post,  with  a 
plume  of  feathers  that  had  once  been  white,  but  with 
dust  and  age  had  now  grown  hearse-like  and  funereal, 

"  Good-night,  my  friends,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with 
a  sweet  smile,  seating  himself,  when  he  had  sur- 
veyed the  room  from  end  to  end,  in  the  easy-chair, 
which  his  attendants  wheeled  before  the  fire. 
"  Good-night !  Barnaby,  my  good  fellow,  you  say 
some  prayers  before  you  go  to  bed,  I  hope  ?  " 

Barnaby  nodded.  "  He  has  some  nonsense  that 
he  calls  his  prayers,  sir,"  returned  old  John  offi- 
ciously.    "  I'm  afraid  there  ain't  much  good  in  'em." 

"  And  Hugh  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester,  turning  to  him. 

"  Not  I,"  he  answered.  "  I  know  his  "  —  pointing 
to  Barnaby  —  "  they're  well  enough.  He  sings  'em 
sometimes  in  the  straw.     I  listen." 

"  He's  quite  a  animal,  sir,"  John  whispered  in  his 
ear  with  dignity.  "You'll  excuse  him,  I'm  sure. 
If  he  has  any  soul  at  all,  sir,  it  must  be  such  a  very 
small  one,  that  it  don't  signify  Avhat  he  does  or 
doesn't  in  that  way.     Good-night,  sir !  " 

The  guest  rejoined  "  God  bless  you  !  "  with  a  fer- 
vor that  was  quite  affecting ;  and  John,  beckoning 
his  guards  to  go  before,  bowed  himself  out  of  the 
room,  and  left  him  to  his  rest  in  the  INIaypole's  an- 
cient bed. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

If  Joseph  Willet,  the  denounced  and  proscribed 
of  'prentices,  had  happened  to  be  at  home  when  his 
father's  courtly  guest  presented  himself  before  the 
Maypole  door  —  that  is,  if  it  had  not  perversely 
chanced  to  be  one  of  the  half-dozen  days  in  the 
whole  year  on  which  he  was  at  liberty  to  absent 
himself  for  as  many  hours  without  question  or  re- 
proach —  he  would  have  contrived,  by  hook  or 
crook,  to  dive  to  the  very  bottom  of  Mr.  Chester's 
mystery,  and  to  come  at  his  purpose  with  as  much 
certainty  as  though  he  had  been  his  confidential  ad- 
viser. In  that  fortunate  case,  the  lovers  would  have 
had  quick  warning  of  the  ills  that  threatened  them, 
and  the  aid  of  various  timely  and  wise  suggestions 
to  boot ;  for  all  Joe's  readiness  of  thought  and 
action,  and  all  his  sympathies  and  good  wishes, 
were  enlisted  in  favor  of  the  young  people,  and 
were  stanch  in  devotion  to  their  cause.  Whether 
this  disposition  arose  out  of  his  old  prepossessions 
in  favor  of  the  young  lady,  whose  history  had  sur- 
rounded her  in  his  mind,  almost  from  his  cradle, 
with  circumstances  of  unusual  interest ;  or  from 
his  attachment  towards  the  young  gentleman,  into 
whose  confidence  he  had,  through  his  shrewdness 
and  alacrity,  and  the  rendering  of  sundry  important 
VOL.  i.-lO.  145 


146  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

services  as  a  spy  and  messenger,  almost  impercepti- 
bly glided  ;  whether  they  had  their  origin  in  either 
of  these  sources,  or  in  the  habit  natural  to  youth,  or 
in  the  constant  badgering  and  worrying  of  his  ven- 
erable parent,  or  in  any  hidden  little  love  affair  of 
his  own  which  gave  him  something  of  a  fellow-feel- 
ing in  the  matter,  it  is  needless  to  inquire  —  espe- 
cially as  Joe  was  out  of  the  way,  and  had  no 
opportunit}',  on  that  particular  occasion,  of  testify- 
ing to  his  sentiments  either  on  one  side  or  the  other. 

It  was,  in  fact,  the  twenty-fifth  of  March,  which, 
as  most  people  know  to  their  cost,  is,  and  has  been 
time  out  of  mind,  one  of  those  unpleasant  epochs 
termed  quarter-days.  On  this  twenty-fifth  of  March 
it  was  John  Wil let's  pride  annually  to  settle,  in 
hard  cash,  his  account  with  a  certain  vintner  and 
distiller  in  the  city  of  London ;  to  give  into  whose 
hands  a  canvas  bag  containing  its  exact  amount, 
and  not  a  penny  more  or  less,  was  the  end  and  ob- 
ject of  a  journey  for  Joe,  so  surely  as  the  year  and 
day  came  round. 

This  journey  was  performed  upon  an  old  gray 
mare,  concerning  whom  John  had  an  indistinct  set 
of  ideas  hovering  about  him,  to  the  effect  that  she 
could  win  a  plate  or  cup  if  she  tried.  She  never  had 
tried,  and  probably  never  would  now,  being  some 
fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age,  short  in  wind,  long 
in  body,  and  rather  the  worse  for  wear  in  respect  of 
her  mane  and  tail.  Notwithstanding  these  slight 
defects,  John  perfectly  gloried  in  the  animal ;  and 
when  she  was  brought  round  to  the  door  by  Hugh, 
actually  retired  into  the  bar,  and  there,  in  a  secret 
grove  of  lemons,  laughed  with  pride. 

"  There's  a  bit  of  horseflesh,  Hugh  !  "  said  John, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  147 

when  he  had  recovered  enough  of  self-command  to 
appear  at  the  door  again.  "  There's  a  comely 
creatur !     There's  high  mettle  !     There's  bone  ! " 

There  was  bone  enough  beyond  all  doubt ;  and  so 
Hugh  seemed  to  think,  as  he  sat  sidewajs  in  the 
saddle,  lazily  doubled  up  with  his  chin  nearly  touch- 
ing his  knees ;  and  heedless  of  the  dangling  stirrups 
and  loose  bridle-rein,  sauntered  up  and  down  on  the 
little  green  before  the  door. 

''  Mind  you  take  good  care  of  her,  sir,"  said  John, 
appealing  from  this  insensible  person  to  his  son  and 
heir,  who  now  appeared,  fully  equipped  and  ready. 
"  Don't  you  ride  hard. " 

"  I  should  be  puzzled  to  do  that,  I  think,  father," 
Joe  replied,  casting  a  disconsolate  look  at  the 
animal. 

''  None  of  your  impudence,  sir,  if  you  please,"  re- 
torted old  John.  "  What  would  you  ride,  sir  ?  A 
wild  ass  or  zebra  would  be  too  tame  for  you,  wouldn't 
he,  eh,  sir  ?  You'd  like  to  ride  a  roaring  lion, 
wouldn't  you,  sir,  eh,  sir  ?  Hold  your  tongue,  sir." 
When  Mr.  Willet,  in  his  differences  with  his  son, 
had  exhausted  all  the  questions  that  occurred  to 
him,  and  Joe  had  said  nothing  at  all  in  answer,  he 
generally  wound  up  by  bidding  him  hold  his  tongue. 

"  And  what  does  the  boy  mean,"  added  INIr.  AYil- 
let,  after  he  had  stared  at  him  for  a  little  time  in  a 
species  of  stupefaction,  "  by  cocking  his  hat  to  such 
an  extent  ?  Are  you  a-going  to  kill  the  wintner, 
sir?" 

"  No,"  said  Joe  tartly  :  "  I'm  not.  Now  your 
mind's  at  ease,  father." 

"With  a  milintary  air,  too!"  said  Mr.  Willet, 
surveying  him  from  top  to  toe ;  "with  a  swaggering, 


148  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

fire-eating,  biling-water-drinking  sort  of  way  with 
him !  And  what  do  you  mean  by  pulling  up  the 
crocuses  and  snowdrops,  eh,  sir  ?  " 

"  It's  only  a  little  nosegay,"  said  Joe,  reddening. 
"  There's  no  harm  in  that,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  You're  a  boy  of  business,  you  are,  sir ! "  said 
Mr.  Willet  disdainfully,  "  to  go  supposing  that 
wintners  care  for  nosegays." 

"  I  don't  suppose  anything  of  the  kind,"  returned 
Joe.  "  Let  them  keep  their  red  noses  for  bottles 
and  tankards.  These  are  going  to  Mr.  Varden's 
house." 

"  And  do  you  suppose  he  minds  such  things  as 
crocuses  ?  "  demanded  John. 

"  I  don't  know,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  I  don't 
care,"  said  Joe.  "  Come,  father,  give  me  the  money, 
and  in  the  name  of  patience  let  me  go." 

"  There  it  is,  sir,"  replied  John ;  ''  and  take  care  of 
it ;  and  mind  you  don't  make  too  much  haste  back, 
but  give  the  mare  a  long  rest.     Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Ay,  I  mind,"  returned  Joe.  "  She'll  need  it, 
Heaven  knows." 

"  And  don't  you  score  up  too  much  at  the  Black 
Lion,"  said  John.     "  Mind  that  too." 

*'  Then  why  don't  you  let  me  have  some  money  of 
my  own  ?  "  retorted  Joe  sorrowfully ;  "  why  don't 
you,  father  ?  What  do  you  send  me  into  London 
for,  giving  me  only  the  right  to  call  for  my  dinner 
at  the  Black  Lion,  which  you're  to  pay  for  next 
time  you  go,  as  if  I  was  not  to  be  trusted  with  a 
few  shillings  ?  Why  do  you  use  me  like  this  ?  It's 
not  right  of  you.  You  can't  expect  me  to  be  quiet 
under  it." 

"  Let  him  have  money  ! "  cried  John  iu  a  drowsy 


BARNABY   EUDGE.  149 

reverie.  "What  does  he  call  money  —  guineas? 
Hasn't  he  got  money  ?  Over  and  above  the  tolls, 
hasn't  he  one  and  sixpence  ?  " 

"  One  and  sixpence  ! "  repeated  his  son  contempt- 
uously. 

"Yes,  sir,"  returned  John,  "one  and  sixpence. 
When  I  was  your  age,  I  had  never  seen  so  much 
money  in  a  heap.  A  shilling  of  it  is  in  case  of  acci- 
dents —  the  mare  casting  a  shoe,  or  the  like  of  that. 
The  other  sixpence  is  to  spend  in  the  diversions 
of  London ;  and  the  diversion  I  recommend  is  going 
to  the  top  of  the  jNIonument,  and  sitting  there. 
There's  no  temptation  there,  sir  —  no  drink  —  no 
young  women  —  no  bad  characters  of  any  sort  — 
nothing  but  imagination.  That's  the  way  I  enjoyed 
myself  when  I  was  your  age,  sir." 

To  this  Joe  made  no  answer,  but,  beckoning  Hugh, 
leaped  into  the  saddle  and  rode  away ;  and  a  very 
stalwart,  manly  horseman  he  looked,  deserving  a 
better  charger  than  it  was  his  fortune  to  bestride. 
John  stood  staring  after  him,  or  rather  after  the 
gray  mare  (for  he  had  no  eyes  for  her  rider)  until 
man  and  beast  had  been  out  of  sight  some  twenty 
minutes,  when  he  began  to  think  they  were  gone, 
and  slowly  re-entering  the  house,  fell  into  a  gentle 
doze. 

The  unfortunate  gray  mare,  who  was  the  agony  of 
Joe's  life,  floundered  along  at  her  own  Avill  and 
pleasure  until  the  ]Maypole  was  no  longer  visible, 
and  then,  contracting  her  legs  into  what  in  a  puppet 
would  have  been  looked  upon  as  a  clumsy  and  awk- 
ward imitation  of  a  canter,  mended  her  pace  all  at 
once,  and  did  it  of  her  own  accord.  The  acquaint- 
ance with  her  rider's  usual   mode   of   proceeding, 


150  BAIINABY   BUDGE. 

which  suggested  this  improvement  in  hers,  impelled 
her  likewise  to  turn  up  a  by-way,  leading  —  not  to 
London,  but  through  lanes  running  parallel  with  the 
road  they  had  come,  and  passing  within  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  of  the  Maypole,  which  led  finally  to  an 
enclosure  surrounding  a  large,  old,  red-brick  man- 
sion —  the  same  of  which  mention  was  made  as  the 
Warren  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  history.  Coming 
to  a  dead  stop  in  a  little  copse  thereabout,  she  suf- 
fered her  rider  to  dismount  with  right  good  will, 
and  to  tie  her  to  the  trunk  of  a  tree. 

"  Stay  there,  old  girl,"  said  Joe,  "  and  let  us  see 
whether  there's  any  little  commission  for  me  to- 
day." So  saying,  he  left  her  to  browse  upon  such 
stunted  grass  and  weeds  as  happened  to  grow  with- 
in the  length  of  her  tether,  and  passing  through  a 
wicket-gate,  entered  the  grounds  on  foot. 

The  pathway,  after  a  very  few  minutes'  walking, 
brought  him  close  to  the  house,  towards  which,  and 
especially  towards  one  particular  window,  he  di- 
rected many  covert  glances.  It  was  a  dreary,  silent 
building,  with  echoing  courtyards,  desolated  turret 
chambers,  and  whole  suites  of  rooms  shut  up  and 
mouldering  to  ruin. 

The  terrace  garden,  dark  with  the  shade  of  over- 
hanging trees,  had  an  air  of  melancholy  that  was 
quite  oppressive.  Great  iron  gates,  disused  for  many 
years,  and  red  with  dust,  drooping  on  their  hinges 
and  overgrown  with  long  rank  grass,  seemed  as 
though  they  tried  to  sink  into  the  ground,  and  hide 
their  fallen  state  among  the  friendly  weeds.  The 
fantastic  monsters  on  the  walls,  green  with  age  and 
damp,  and  covered  here  and  there  with  moss,  looked 
grim  and  desolate.     There  was  a  sombre  aspect  even 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  151 

on  that  part  of  the  mansion  which  was  inhabited 
and  kept  in  good  repair,  that  struck  the  behohler 
with  a  sense  of  sadness ;  of  something  forlorn  and 
failing,  whence  cheerfulness  was  banished.  It  would 
have  been  difficult  to  imagine  a  bright  tire  blazing  in 
the  dull  and  darkened  rooms,  or  to  picture  any 
gayety  of  heart  or  revelry  that  the  frowning  walls 
shut  in.  It  seemed  a  place  where  such  things  had 
been,  but  could  be  no  more  —  the  very  ghost  of  a 
house,  haunting  the  old  spot  in  its  old  outward  form, 
and  that  was  all. 

Much  of  this  decayed  and  sombre  look  was  attrib- 
utable, no  doubt,  to  the  death  of  its  former  master, 
and  the  temper  of  its  present  occupant ;  but,  remem- 
bering the  tale  connected  with  the  mansion,  it  seemed 
the  very  place  for  such  a  deed,  and  one  that  might 
have  been  its  predestined  theatre  years  upon  years 
ago.  Viewed  with  reference  to  this  legend,  the  sheet 
of  water  where  the  steward's  body  had  been  found 
appeared  to  wear  a  black  and  sullen  character,  such 
as  no  other  pool  might  own ;  the  bell  upon  the  roof, 
that  had  told  the  tale  of  murder  to  the  midnight 
wind,  became  a  very  phantom  whose  voice  would 
raise  the  listener's  hair  on  end ;  and  every  leafless 
bough  that  nodded  to  another  had  its  stealthy  whis- 
pering of  the  crime. 

Joe  paced  up  and  down  the  path,  sometimes 
stopping  in  affected  contemplation  of  the  building 
or  the  prospect,  sometimes  leaning  against  a  tree 
with  an  assumed  air  of  idleness  and  indifference, 
but  always  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  window  he  had 
singled  out  at  first.  After  some  quarter  of  an 
hour's  delay,  a  small  white  hand  was  waved  to  him 
for  an  instant  from  this  casement,  and  the  young 


152  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

man,  with  a  respectful  bow,  departed  ;  saying  under 
his  breath,  as  he  crossed  his  horse  again,  ''  No  errand 
for  me  to-day  ! " 

But  the  air  of  smartness,  the  cock  of  the  hat  to 
which  John  Willet  had  objected,  and  the  spring 
nosegay,  all  betokened  some  little  errand  of  his  own, 
having  a  more  interesting  object  than  a  vintner  or 
even  a  locksmith.  So,  indeed,  it  turned  out ;  for 
when  he  had  settled  with  the  vintner  —  whose  place 
of  business  was  down  in  some  deep  cellars  hard  by 
Thames  Street,  and  who  was  as  purple-faced  an  old 
gentleman  as  if  he  had  all  his  life  supported  their 
arched  roof  on  his  head  —  when  he  had  settled 
the  account,  and  taken  the  receipt,  and  declined 
tasting  more  than  three  glasses  of  old  sherry,  to  the 
unbounded  astonishment  of  the  purple-faced  vintner, 
who,  gimlet  in  hand,  had  projected  an  attack  upon 
at  least  a  score  of  dusty  casks,  and  who  stood  trans- 
fixed, or  morally  gimleted  as  it  were,  to  his  own  wall 
—  when  he  had  done  all  this,  and  disposed  besides  of 
a  frugal  dinner  at  the  Black  Lion  in  Whitechapel ; 
spurning  the  Monument  and  John's  advice,  he 
turned  his  steps  towards  the  locksmith's  house, 
attracted  by  the  eyes  of  blooming  Dolly  Varden. 

Joe  was  by  no  means  a  sheepish  fellow,  but,  for 
all  that,  when  he  got  to  the  corner  of  the  street  in 
which  the  locksmith  lived,  he  could  by  no  means 
make  up  his  mind  to  walk  straight  to  the  house. 
First,  he  resolved  to  stroll  up  another  street  for  five 
minutes,  then  up  another  street  for  five  minutes 
more,  and  so  on  until  he  had  lost  full  half  an  hour, 
when  he  made  a  bold  plunge,  and  found  himself 
with  a  red  face  and  a  beating  heart  in  the  smoky 
workshop. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  153 

"  Joe  Willet,  or  his  ghost  ?  "  said  Varden,  rising 
from  the  desk  at  which  he  was  busy  with  his 
books,  and  looking  at  him  under  his  spectacles. 
"  Which  is  it  ?  Joe  in  the  flesh,  eh  ?  That's 
hearty.  And  how  are  all  the  Chigwell  company, 
Joe  ?  " 

"  Much  as  usual,  sir  —  they  and  I  agree  as  well  as 
ever." 

"  Well,  well !  "  said  the  locksmith.  "  We  must 
be  patient,  Joe,  and  bear  with  old  folks'  foibles. 
How's  the  mare,  Joe  ?  Does  she  do  the  four 
miles  an  hour  as  easily  as  ever  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
Does  she,   Joe  ?     Eh  ?  —  what  have  we  there,  Joe 

—  a  nosegay  ? " 

"A  very  poor  one,  sir.     I  thought  Miss  Dolly — " 

"  No,  no,"  said  Gabriel,  dropping  his  voice  and 
shaking  his  head.  "Not  Dolly.  Give  'em  to  her 
mother,  Joe.  A  greal  deal  better  give  'em  to  her 
mother.  Would  you  mind  giving  'em  to  Mrs.  Var- 
den, Joe  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  sir,"  Joe  replied,  and  endeavoring,  but  not 
with  the  greatest  possible  success,  to  hide  his  disap- 
pointment.    "  I  shall  be  very  glad,  I'm  sure." 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  locksmith,  patting  him 
on  the  back.     "  It  don't  matter  who  has  'em,  Joe  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit,  sir."  —  Dear  heart,  how  the  words 
stuck  in  his  throat ! 

"  Come  in,"  said  Gabriel.  "  I  have  just  been  called 
to  tea.     She's  in  the  parlor." 

"  She,"  thought  Joe.     "  Which  of  'em,  I  wonder 

—  Mrs.  or  Miss  ?  "  The  locksmith  settled  the  doubt 
as  neatly  as  if  it  had  been  expressed  aloud,  by 
leading  him  to  the  door,  and  saying,  "  Martha,  my 
dear,  here's  young  Mr.  Willet." 


154  BAENABY   RTJDGE. 

Now,  Mvs.  Varclen,  regarding  the  Maypole  as  a 
sort  of  human  man-trap,  or  decoy  for  husbands ; 
viewing  its  proprietor  and  all  who  aided  and  abetted 
him,  in  the  light  of  so  many  poachers  among  Chris- 
tian men  ;  and  believing,  moreover,  that  the  publi- 
cans coupled  with  sinners  in  Holy  Writ  were 
veritable  licensed  victuallers ;  was  far  from  being 
favorably  disposed  towards  her  visitor.  Where- 
fore she  was  taken  faint  directly  ;  and,  being  duly 
presented  with  the  crocuses  and  snowdrops,  divined, 
on  further  consideration,  that  they  were  the  occasion 
of  the  languor  which  had  seized  upon  her  spirits. 
"  I'm  afraid  I  couldn't  bear  the  room  another  min- 
ute," said  the  good  lady,  "if  they  remained  here. 
Would  you  excuse  my  putting  them  out  of 
window  ?  " 

Joe  begged  she  wouldn't  mention  it  on  any 
account,  and  smiled  feebly  as  he  saw  them  deposited 
on  the  sill  outside.  If  anybody  could  have  knoAvn 
the  pains  he  had  taken  to  make  up  that  despised  and 
misused  bunch  of  flowers  ! 

"I  feel  it  quite  a  relief  to  get  rid  of  them,  I 
assure  you,"  said  Mrs.  Varden.  "I  am  better 
already."  And  indeed  she  did  appear  to  have 
plucked  up  her  spirits. 

Joe  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Providence  for  this 
favorable  dispensation,  and  tried  to  look  as  if  he 
didn't  wonder  where  Dolly  was. 

"You're  sad  people  at  Chigwell,  Mr.  Joseph,"  said 
Mrs.  V. 

"  I  hope  not,  ma'am,"  returned  Joe. 

"  You're  the  cruellest  and  most  inconsiderate  peo- 
ple in  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  bridling.  "I 
wonder  old  Mr.  Willet,  having  been  a  married  man 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  155 

himself,  doesn't  know  better  than  to  conduct  himself 
as  he  does.  His  doing  it  for  profit  is  no  excuse.  I 
would  rather  pay  the  money  twenty  times  over,  and 
have  Varden  come  home  like  a  respectable  and 
sober  tradesman.  If  there  is  one  character,"  said 
j\[rs.  Yarden  with  great  emphasis,  "  that  offends  and 
disgusts  me  more  than  another,  it  is  a  sot." 

"  Come,  Martha,  my  dear,"  said  the  locksmith 
cheerily,  "  let  us  have  tea,  and  don't  let  us  talk  about 
sots.  There  are  none  here,  and  Joe  don't  want  to 
hear  about  them,  I  dare  say." 

At  this  crisis  Miggs  appeared  with  toast. 

"  I  dare  say  he  does  not,"  said  Mrs.  Varden  ;  "  and 
I  dare  say  you  do  not,  Varden.  It's  a  very  unpleas- 
ant subject  I  have  no  doubt,  though  I  won't  say  it's 
personal  "  —  Miggs  coughed  —  "  whatever  I  may  be 
forced  to  think,"  Miggs  sneezed  expressively.  '•  You 
never  will  know,  Varden,  and  nobody  at  young  Mr. 
Willet's  age  —  you'll  excuse  me,  sir  —  can  be  ex- 
pected to  know,  what  a  woman  suffers  when  she  is 
waiting  at  home  under  such  circumstances.  If  you 
don't  believe  me,  as  I  know  you  don't,  here's  Miggs, 
who  is  only  too  often  a  witness  of  it  —  ask  her." 

"  Oh  !  she  were  very  bad  the  other  night,  sir, 
indeed  she  Avere,"  said  Miggs.  "  If  you  hadn't  the 
sweetness  of  an  angel  in  you,  mim,  I  don't  think 
you  could  abear  it,  I  raly  don't." 

''  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  "  you're  profane." 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  mim,"  returned  Miggs 
with  shrill  rapidity,  "  such  was  not  my  intentions, 
and  such  I  hope  is  not  my  character,  though  I  am 
but  a  servant." 

"  Answering  me,  Miggs,  and  providing  you.rself," 
retorted  her  mistress,  looking  round  with  dignity, 


156  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

''  IS  one  and  the  same  thing.  How  dare  you  speak 
of  angels  in  connection  with  your  sinful  fellow- 
beings  —  mere  "  —  said  INIrs.  Varden,  glancing  at 
herself  in  a  neighboring  mirror,  and  arranging  the 
ribbon  of  her  cap  in  a  more  becoming  fashion  — 
"  mere  worms  and  grovellers  as  we  are  ?  " 

"I  did  not  intend,  mim,  if  you  please,  to  give 
offence,"  said  Miggs,  confident  in  the  strength  of 
her  compliment,  and  developing  strongly  in  the 
throat  as  usual,  "  and  I  did  not  expect  it  would  be 
took  as  such.  I  hope  I  know  my  own  unworthiness, 
and  that  I  hate  and  despise  myself  and  all  my 
fellow-creatures  as  every  practical  Christian  should." 

''You'll  have  the  goodness,  if  you  please,"  said 
Mrs.  Varden  loftily,  "to  step  upstairs  and  see  if 
Dolly  has  finished  dressing,  and  to  tell  her  that  the 
chair  that  was  ordered  for  her  will  be  here  in  a 
minute,  and  that  if  she  keeps  it  waiting,  I  shall 
send  it  away  that  instant.  —  I'm  sorry  to  see  that 
you  don't  take  your  tea,  Varden,  and  that  you  don't 
take  yours,  Mr.  Joseph ;  though  of  course  it  would 
be  foolish  of  me  to  expect  that  anything  that  can 
be  had  at  home,  and  in  the  company  of  females, 
would  please  ?/o?;." 

This  pronoun  was  understood  in  the  plural  sense, 
and  included  both  gentlemen,  upon  both  of  whom  it 
was  rather  hard  and  undeserved,  for  Gabriel  had 
applied  himself  to  the  meal  with  a  very  promising 
appetite,  until  it  was  spoilt  by  Mrs.  Varden  herself, 
and  Joe  had  as  great  a  liking  for  the  female  society 
of  the  locksmith's  house  —  or  for  a  part  of  it  at  all 
events — as  man  could  well  entertain. 

But  he  had  no  opportunity  to  say  anything  in  his 
own    defence,    for   at   that   moment   Dolly   herself 


BAENABY  RDDGB.  157 

appeared,  and  struck  him  quite  dumb  with  her 
beauty.  Never  had  Dolly  looked  so  handsome  as 
she  did  then,  in  all  the  glow  and  grace  of  youth, 
with  all  her  charms  increased  a  hundred-fold  by  a 
most  becoming  dress,  by  a  thousand  little  coquettish 
ways  which  nobody  could  assume  with  a  better 
grace,  and  all  the  sparkling  expectation  of  that 
accursed  party.  It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  Joe 
hated  that  party,  wherever  it  was,  and  all  the  other 
people  who  were  going  to  it,  whoever  they  were. 

And  she  hardly  looked  at  him  —  no,  hardly  looked, 
at  him.  And  when  the  chair  was  seen  through  the 
open  door  coining  blundering  into  the  workshop,  she 
actually  clapped  her  hands  and  seemed  glad  to  go. 
But  Joe  gave  her  his  arm  —  there  was  some  comfort 
in  that  —  and  handed  her  into  it.  To  see  her  seat 
herself  inside,  with  her  laughing  eyes  brighter  than 
diamonds,  and  her  hand  —  surely  she  had  the  pret- 
tiest hand  in  the  world  —  on  the  ledge  of  the  open 
window,  and  her  little  finger  provokingly  and  pertly 
tilted  up,  as  if  it  wondered  why  Joe  didn't  squeeze 
or  kiss  it !  To  think  how  well  one  or  two  of  the 
modest  snowdrops  would  have  become  that  delicate 
bodice,  and  how  they  were  lying  neglected  outside 
the  parlor  window !  To  see  how  Miggs  looked  on, 
with  a  face  expressive  of  knowing  how  all  this  love- 
liness was  got  up,  and  of  being  in  the  secret  of 
every  string  and  pin  and  hook  and  eye,  and  of  saying 
it  ain't  half  as  real  as  you  think,  and  I  could  look 
quite  as  well  myself  if  I  took  the  pains !  To  hear 
that  provoking  precious  little  scream  when  the  chair 
was  hoisted  on  its  poles,  and  to  catch  that  transient 
but  not-to-be-forgotten  vision  of  the  happy  face 
within  —  what  torments  and  aggravations,  and  yet 


158  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

what  delights  were  these !    The  very  chairmen  seemed 
favored  rivals  as  they  bore  her  down  the  street. 

There  never  was  such  an  alteration  in  a  small 
room  in  a  small  time  as  in  that  parlor  when  they 
went  back  to  linish  tea.  So  dark,  so  deserted,  so 
perfectly  disenchanted.  It  seemed  such  sheer  non- 
sense to  be  sitting  tamely  there,  when  she  was  at  a 
dance  with  more  lovers  than  man  could  calculate 
fluttering  about  her  —  with  the  whole  party  doting 
on  and  adoring  her,  and  wanting  to  marry  her. 
Miggs  was  hovering  about  too ;  and  the  fact  of  her 
existence,  the  mere  circumstance  of  her  ever  having 
been  born,  appeared,  after  Dolly,  such  an  unaccount- 
able practical  joke.  It  was  impossible  to  talk.  It 
couldn't  be  done.  He  had  nothing  left  for  it  but  to 
stir  his  tea  round,  and  round,  and  round,  and  rumi- 
nate on  all  the  fascinations  of  the  locksmith's 
lovely  daughter. 

Gabriel  was  dull  too.  It  was  a  part  of  the  certain 
uncertainty  of  Mrs.  Varden's  temper,  tliat  when 
they  were  in  this  condition,  she  should  be  gay  and 
sprightly. 

"  I  need  have  a  cheerful  disposition,  I  am  sure," 
said  the  smiling  housewife,  '-to  preserve  any  spirits 
at  all ;  and  how  I  do  it  I  can  scarcely  tell." 

"  Ah,  mim,"  sighed  Miggs,  "  begging  your  pardon 
for  the  interruption,  there  ain't  a  many  like  you." 

"  Take  away,  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  rising, 
"take  away,  pray.  I  know  I'm  a  restraint  here, 
and  as  I  wish  everybody  to  enjoy  themselves  as  they 
best  can,  I  feel  I  had  better  go." 

"No,  no,  Martha,"  cried  the  locksmith.  "Stop 
here.  I'm  sure  we  shall  be  very  sorry  to  lose  you, 
eh,  Joe  ?  "     Joe  started  and  said,  "  Certainly." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  159 

"Thank  yon,  Varden,  my  dear,"  returned  his 
wife  ;  "  but  I  know  your  wishes  better.  Tobacco 
and  beer,  or  spirits,  have  much  greater  attractions 
than  any  /can  boast  of,  and  therefore  I  shall  go  and 
sit  upstairs  and  look  out  of  window,  my  love. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Joseph.  I'm  very  glad  to  have 
seen  you,  and  only  wish  I  could  have  provided  some- 
thing more  suitable  to  your  taste.  Kemember  me 
very  kindly,  if  you  please,  to  old  ]VIr.  Willet,  and 
tell  him  that  whenever  he  comes  here  I  have  a  crow 
to  pluck  with  him.     Good-night !  " 

Having  uttered  these  words  with  great  sweetness 
of  manner,  the  good  lady  dropped  a  curtsy  remark- 
able for  its  condescension,  and  serenely  withdrew. 

And  it  was  for  this  Joe  had  looked  forward  to  the 
twenty-fifth  of  March  for  weeks  and  weeks,  and  had 
gathered  the  flowers  with  so  much  care,  and  had 
cocked  his  hat,  and  made  himself  so  smart !  This 
was  the  end  of  all  his  bold  determination,  resolved 
upon  for  the  hundredth  time,  to  speak  out  to  Dolly 
and  tell  her  how  he  loved  her  !  To  see  her  for  a 
minute  —  for  but  a  minute — to  find  her  going  out 
to  a  party,  and  glad  to  go ;  to  be  looked  upon  as  a 
common  pipe-smoker,  beer-bibber,  spirit-guzzler,  and 
toss-pot !  He  bade  farewell  to  his  friend  the  lock- 
smith, and  hastened  to  take  horse  at  the  Black  Lion, 
thinking  as  he  turned  towards  home,  as  many 
another  Joe  has  thought  before  and  since,  that  here 
was  an  end  to  all  his  hopes  —  that  the  thing  was 
impossible,  and  never  could  be  —  that  she  didn't 
care  for  him  —  that  he  was  wretched  for  life — and 
that  the  only  congenial  prospect  left  him  was  to  go 
for  a  soldier  or  a  sailor,  and  get  some  obliging 
enemy  to  knock  his  brains  out  as  soon  as  possible. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Joe  Willet  rode  leisurely  along  in  his  despond- 
ing mood,  picturing  the  locksmith's  daughter  going 
down  long  country  dances,  and  poussetting  dreadfully 
with  bold  strangers  —  which  was  almost  too  much 
to  bear  —  when  he  heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse's  feet 
behind  him,  and  looking  back,  saw  a  well-mounted 
gentleman  advancing  at  a  smart  canter.  As  this 
rider  passed,  he  checked  his  steed,  and  called  him 
of  the  Maypole  by  his  name.  Joe  set  spurs  to  the 
gray  mare,  and  was  at  his  side  directly. 

''  I  thought  it  was  you,  sir,"  he  said,  touching  his 
hat.  "  A  fair  evening,  sir.  Glad  to  see  you  out  of 
doors  again." 

The  gentleman  smiled  and  nodded.  "  What  gay 
doings  have  been  going  on  to-day,  Joe  ?  Is  she  as 
pretty  as  ever?     Nay,  don't  blush,  man." 

"If  I  colored  at  all,  Mr.  Edward,"  said  Joe, 
"it  was  to  think  I  should  have  been  such  a  fool  as 
ever  to  have  any  hope  of  her.  She's  as  far  out  of 
my  reach  as  —  as  Heaven  is." 

"Well,  Joe,  I  hope  that's  not  altogether  beyond 
it,"  said  Edward  good-humoredly.     "  Eh  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Joe.  "  It's  all  very  fine  talking,  sir. 
Proverbs  are  easily  made  in  cold  blood.  But  it 
can't  be  helped.  Are  you  bound  for  our  house,  sir  ?  " 
IGO 


BARNABY   P.ITDGE.  161 

"  Yes.  As  I  am  not  quite  strong  yet,  I  shall  stay- 
there  to-night,  and  ride  home  coolly  in  the  morning." 

"If  you're  in  no  particular  hurry,"  said  Joe  after 
a  short  silence,  "  and  will  bear  with  the  pace  of  this 
poor  jade,  I  shall  be  glad  to  ride  on  with  you  to  the 
Warren,  sir,  and  hold  your  horse  when  you  dismount. 
It'll  save  you  having  to  walk  from  the  Maypole, 
there  and  back  again.  I  can  spare  the  time  well, 
sir,  for  I  am  too  soon." 

"  And  so  am  I,"  returned  Edward,  "  though  I  was 
unconsciously  riding  fast  just  now,  in  compliment,  I 
suppose,  to  the  pace  of  my  thoughts,  which  were 
travelling  post.  We  will  keep  together,  Joe, 
willingly,  and  be  as  good  company  as  may  be.  And 
cheer  up,  cheer  up ;  think  of  the  locksmith's  daugh- 
ter with  a  stout  heart,  and  you  shall  win  her  yet." 

Joe  shook  his  head ;  but  there  was  something  so 
cheery  in  the  buoyant  hopeful  manner  of  this  speech, 
that  his  spirits  rose  under  its  influence,  and  communi- 
cated, as  it  would  seem,  some  new  impulse  even  to 
the  gray  mare,  who,  breaking  from  her  sober  amble 
into  a  gentle  trot,  emulated  the  pace  of  Edward 
Chester's  horse,  and  appeared  to  flatter  herself  that 
he  was  doing  his  very  best. 

It  was  a  fine  dry  night,  and  the  light  of  a  young 
moon  which  was  then  just  rising,  shed  around  that 
peace  and  tranquillity  which  gives  to  evening-time 
its  most  delicious  charm.  The  lengthened  shadows 
of  the  trees,  softened  as  if  reflected  in  still  water, 
threw  their  carpet  on  the  path  the  travellers  pursued, 
and  the  light  wind  stirred  yet  more  softly  thau 
before,  as  though  it  were  soothing  nature  in  her 
sleep.  By  little  and  little  they  ceased  talking,  and 
rode  on  side  by  side  in  a  pleasant  silence. 

VOL.  I.-ll. 


162  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"The  Maypolev  lights  are  brilliant  to-night,"  said 
Edward,  as  they  rode  along  the  lane  from  which, 
while  the  intervening  trees  were  bare  of  leaves, 
that  hostelry  was  visible. 

"  Brilliant  indeed,  sir,"  returned  Joe,  rising  in  his 
stirrups  to  get  a  better  view.  "  Lights  in  the  large 
room,  and  a  lire  glimmering  in  the  best  bedchamber  ? 
Why,  what  company  can  this  be  for,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"Some  benighted  horseman  wending  toAvards 
London,  and  deterred  from  going  on  to-night  by  the 
marvellous  tales  of  my  friend  the  highwayman,  I 
suppose,"  said  Edward. 

"  He  must  be  a  horseman  of  good  quality  to  have 
such  accommodations.     Your  bed  too,  sir ! " 

"No  matter,  Joe.  Any  other  room  will  do  for 
me.  But  come  —  there's  nine  striking.  We  may 
push  on." 

They  cantered  forward  at  as  brisk  a  pace  as  Joe's 
charger  could  attain,  and  presentl}^  stopped  in  the 
little  copse  where  he  had  left  her  in  the  morning. 
Edward  dismounted,  gave  his  bridle  to  his  compan- 
ion, and  walked  with  a  light  step  towards  the  house. 

A  female  servant  was  waiting  at  a  side-gate  in  the 
garden  wall,  and  admitted  him  without  delay.  He 
hurried  along  the  terrace  walk,  and  darted  up  a  flight 
of  broad  steps  leading  into  an  old  and  gloomy  hall, 
whose  walls  were  ornamented  with  rusty  suits  of 
armor,  antlers,  weapons  of  the  chase,  and  such  like 
garniture.  Here  he  paused,  but  not  long ;  for  as  he 
looked  round,  as  if  expecting  the  attendant  to  have 
followed,  and  wondering  she  had  not  done  so,  a 
lovely  girl  appeared,  whose  dark  hair  next  moment 
rested  on  his  breast.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  a 
heavy  hand  was   laid   upon   her  arm,  Edward  felt 


"^i. 

E^^^^p 

;■'  1 

1 

ii:?4^«^ 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  163 

himself  thrust  away,  and  Mr.  Haredale  stood 
between  them. 

He  regarded  the  young  man  sternly  withoiit 
removing  his  hat ;  with  one  hand  clasped  his  niece, 
and  with  the  other,  in  which  he  held  his  riding-whip, 
motioned  him  towards  the  door.  The  young  man 
drew  himself  up,  and  returned  his  gaze. 

"This  is  well  done  of  you,  sir,  to  corrupt  my 
servants,  and  enter  my  house  unbidden  and  in 
secret,  like  a  thief ! "  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "  Leave 
it,  sir,  and  return  no  more." 

"  Miss  Haredale's  presence,"  returned  the  young 
man,  "and  your  relationship  to  her,  give  you  a 
license  which,  if  you  are  a  brave  man,  you  will  not 
abuse.  You  have  compelled  me  to  this  course,  and 
the  fault  is  yours  —  not  mine." 

"  It  is  neither  generous,  nor  honorable,  nor  the  act 
of  a  true  man,  sir,"  retorted  the  other,  "  to  tamper 
Avith  the  affections  of  a  weak,  trusting  girl,  while 
you  shrink,  in  your  unworthiness,  from  her  guardian 
and  protector,  and  dare  not  meet  the  light  of  day. 
More  than  this  I  will  not  say  to  you,  save  that  I 
forbid  you  this  house,  and  require  you  to  be  gone." 

"  It  is  neither  generous,  nor  honorable,  nor  the  act 
of  a  true  man  to  play  the  spy,"  said  Edward. 
"  Your  words  imply  dishonor,  and  I  reject  them  with 
the  scorn  they  merit." 

"  You  will  find,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  calmly,  "  your 
trusty  go-between  in  waiting  at  the  gate  by  which 
you  entered.  I  have  played  no  spy's  part,  sir.  I 
chanced  to  see  you  pass  the  gate,  and  followed.  You 
might  have  heard  me  knocking  for  admission,  had 
you  been  less  swift  of  foot,  or  lingered  in  the  gar- 
den.    Please  to  withdraw.     Your  presence  here  is 


164  BAKNABY  EUDGE. 

offensive  to  me  and  distressful  to  my  niece."  As  he 
said  these  words,  he  passed  his  arm  about  the  waist 
of  the  terrified  and  weeping  girl,  and  drew  her  closer 
to  him ;  and  though  the  habitual  severity  of  his 
manner  was  scarcely  changed,  there  was  yet  apparent 
in  the  action  an  air  of  kindness  and  sympathy  for 
her  distress. 

"Mr.  Haredale,"  said  Edward,  "your  arm  encircles 
her  on  whom  I  have  set  my  every  hope  and  thought, 
and  to  purchase  one  minute's  happiness  for  whom 
I  would  gladly  lay  down  my  life ;  this  house  is  the 
casket  that  holds  the  precious  jewel  of  my  exist- 
ence. Your  niece  has  plighted  her  faith  to  me,  and 
I  have  plighted  mine  to  her.  What  have  I  done 
that  you  should  hold  me  in  this  light  esteem,  and 
give  me  these  discourteous  words  ?  " 

"  You  have  done  that,  sir,"  answered  Mr.  Hare- 
dale,  "which  must  be  undone.  You  have  tied  a 
lover's  knot  here  which  must  be  cut  asunder.  Take 
good  heed  of  what  I  say.  Must.  I  cancel  the 
bond  between  ye.  I  reject  you,  and  all  of  your 
kith  and  kin  —  all  the  false,  hollow,  heartless 
stock." 

"  High  words,  sir,"  said  Edward  scornfully. 

"Words  of  purpose  and  meaning,  as  you  will 
find,"  replied  the  other.     "  Lay  them  to  heart." 

"  Lay  you  then,  these,"  said  Edward.  "  Your 
cold  and  sullen  temper,  which  chills  every  breast 
about  you,  which  turns  affection  into  fear,  and 
changes  duty  into  dread,  has  forced  us  on  this 
secret  course,  repugnant  to  our  nature  and  our  wish, 
and  far  more  foreign,  sir,  to  us  than  you.  I  am  not 
a  false,  a  hollow,  or  a  heartless  man  ;  the  character 
is  yours,   who  poorly  venture   on  these  injurious 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  165 

terms,  against  the  truth,  and  under  the  shelter 
whereof  I  reminded  you  just  now.  You  shall  not 
cancel  the  bond  between  us.  I  will  not  abandon 
this  pursuit.  I  rely  upon  your  niece's  truth  and 
honor,  and  set  your  influence  at  naught.  I  leave 
her  with  a  confidence  in  her  pure  faith,  which  you 
will  never  weaken,  and  with  no  concern  but  that  I 
do  not  leave  her  in  some  gentler  care." 

With  that,  he  pressed  her  cold  hand  to  his  lips, 
and  once  more  encountering  and  returning  Mr. 
Haredale's  steady  look,  withdrew. 

A  few  words  to  Joe  as  he  mounted  his  horse  suf- 
ficiently explained  what  had  passed,  and  renewed 
all  that  young  gentleman's  despondency  with  ten- 
fold aggravation.  They  rode  back  to  the  MaA'pole 
without  exchanging  a  syllable,  and  arrived  at  the 
door  with  heavy  hearts. 

Old  John,  who  had  peeped  from  behind  the  red 
curtain  as  they  rode  up  shouting  for  Hugh,  was  out 
directly,  and  said  with  great  importance,  as  he  held 
the  young  man's  stirrup,  — 

"He's  comfortable  in  bed  —  the  best  bed.  A 
thorough  gentleman ;  the  smilingest,  affablest  gen- 
tleman I  ever  had  to  do  with." 

"  Who,  Willet  ?  "  said  Edward  carelessly  as  he 
dismounted. 

"  Your  worthy  father,  sir,"  replied  John.  "■  Your 
honorable,  venerable  father." 

"  What  does  he  mean  ? "  said  Edward,  looking 
with  a  mixture  of  alarm  and  doubt  at  Joe. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Joe.  "  Don't  you 
see  Mr.  Edward  doesn't  understand,  father  ?  " 

*'  Why,  didn't  you  know  of  it,  sir  ?  "  said  John, 
opening    his    eyes    wide.     "  How    very    singular ! 


166  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

Bless  you,  he's  been  here  ever  since  noon  to-day, 
and  Mr,  Haredale  has  been  having  a  long  talk  with 
him,  and  hasn't  been  gone  an  hour." 

"  My  father,  Willet !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  told  me  so  —  a  handsome,  slim,  up- 
right gentleman,  in  green  and  gold.  In  your  old 
room  up  yonder,  sir.  No  doubt  you  can  go  in,  sir," 
said  John,  walking  backwards  into  the  road,  and 
looking  up  at  the  window.  "  He  hasn't  put  out  his 
candles  yet,  I  see." 

Edward  glanced  at  the  window  also,  and  hastily 
murmuring  that  he  had  changed  his  mind  —  forgot- 
ten something  —  and  must  return  to  London, 
mounted  his  horse  again  and  rode  away ;  leaving 
the  Willets,  father  and  son,  looking  at  each  other 
in  mute  astonishment. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

At  noon  next  day  John  Willet's  guest  sat  linger- 
ing over  his  breakfast  in  his  own  home,  surrounded 
by  a  variety  of  comforts,  which  left  the  Maypole's 
highest  flight  and  utmost  stretch  of  accommodation 
at  an  infinite  distance  behind,  and  suggested  com- 
parisons very  much  to  the  disadvantage  and  dis- 
favor of  that  venerable  tavern. 

In  the  broad  old-fashioned  window-seat  —  as 
capacious  as  many  modern  sofas,  and  cushioned 
to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  luxurious  settee  —  in  the 
broad  old-fashioned  window-seat  of  a  roomy  cham- 
ber Mr.  Chester  lounged,  very  much  at  his  ease,  over 
a  well-furnished  breakfast  table.  He  had  exchanged 
his  riding-coat  for  a  handsome  morning  gown,  his 
boots  for  slippers ;  had  been  at  great  pains  to  atone 
for  the  having  been  obliged  to  make  his  toilet  when 
he  rose  without  the  aid  of  dressing-case  and  tiring 
equipage ;  and,  having  gradually  forgotten  through 
these  means  the  discomforts  of  an  indifferent  night 
and  an  early  ride,  was  in  a  state  of  perfect  compla- 
cency, indolence,  and  satisfaction. 

The  situation  in  which  he  found  himself,  indeed, 

was  particularly  favorable  to  the  growth  of  these 

feelings  ;  for,  not  to  mention  the  lazy  influence  of  a 

late  and  lonely  breakfast,  with  the  additional  seda- 

167 


168  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

tive  of  a  newspaper,  there  was  an  air  of  repose 
about  his  place  of  residence  peculiar  to  itself,  and 
which  hangs  about  it,  even  in  these  times,  when  it 
is  more  bustling  and  busy  than  it  was  in  days  of 
yore. 

There  are,  still,  worse  places  than  the  Temple,  on 
a  sultry  day,  for  basking  in  the  sun,  or  resting  idly 
in  the  shade.  There  is  yet  a  drowsiness  in  its 
courts,  and  a  dreamy  dulness  in  its  trees  and  gar- 
dens :  those  who  pace  its  lanes  and  squares  may  yet 
hear  the  echoes  of  their  footsteps  on  the  sounding 
stones,  and  read  upon  its  gates,  in  passing  from  the 
tumult  of  the  Strand  or  Fleet  Street,  "  Who  enters 
here  leaves  noise  behind."  There  is  still  the  plash 
of  falling  water  in  fair  Fountain  Court,  and  there 
are  yet  nooks  and  corners  where  dun-haunted  stu- 
dents may  look  down  from  their  dusty  garrets  on  a 
vagrant  ray  of  sunlight  patching  the  shade  of  the 
tall  houses,  and  seldom  troubled  to  reflect  a  passing 
stranger's  form.  There  is  yet,  in  the  Temple,  some- 
thing of  a  clerkly  monkish  atmosphere,  Avhich  pub- 
lic offices  of  law  have  not  disturbed,  and  even  legal 
firms  have  failed  to  scare  away.  In  summer  time 
its  pumps  suggest,  to  thirsty  idlers,  springs  cooler, 
and  more  sparkling,  and  deeper  than  other  wells ; 
and  as  they  trace  the  spillings  of  full  pitchers  on 
the  heated  ground,  they  snuff  the  freshness,  and, 
sighing,  cast  sad  looks  towards  the  Thames,  and 
think  of  baths  and  boats,  and  saunter  on,  despond- 
ent. 

It  was  in  a  room  in  Paper  Buildings  —  a  row  of 
goodly  tenements,  shaded  in  front  by  ancient  trees, 
and  looking,  at  the  back,  upon  the  Temple  Gardens 
—  that  this,   our  idler,    lounged ;    now   taking   up 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  169 

again  the  paper  he  had  laid  down  a  hundred  times ; 
now  trifling  with  the  fragments  of  his  meal ;  now 
pulling  forth  his  golden  toothpick,  and  glancing  lei- 
surely about  the  room,  or  out  at  window  into  the 
trim  garden  walks,  where  a  few  early  loiterers  were 
already  pacing  to  and  fro.  Here  a  pair  of  lovers 
met  to  quarrel  and  make  up ;  there  a  dark-eyed 
nursery-maid  had  better  eyes  for  Templars  than  her 
charge  ;  on  this  hand  an  ancient  spinster,  with  her 
lap-dog  in  a  string,  regarded  both  enormities  with 
scornful  sidelong  looks ;  on  that  a  weazen  old  gen- 
tleman, ogling  the  nursery-maid,  looked  with  like 
scorn  upon  the  spinster,  and  wondered  she  didn't 
know  she  was  no  longer  young.  Apart  from  all 
these,  on  the  river's  margin  two  or  three  couple  of 
business  talkers  walked  slowly  up  and  down  in  ear- 
nest conversation ;  and  one  young  man  sat  thought- 
fully on  a  bench  alone. 

"  I^ed  is  amazingly  patient ! "  said  Mr.  Chester, 
glancing  at  this  last-named  person  as  he  set  down 
his  teacup  and  plied  the  golden  toothpick,  "im- 
mensely patient !  He  was  sitting  yonder  when  I 
began  to  dress,  and  has  scarcely  changed  his  posture 
since.     A  most  eccentric  dog ! " 

As  he  spoke,  the  figure  rose,  and  came  towards 
him  with  a  rapid  pace. 

"  Really,  as  if  he  had  heard  me,"  said  the  father, 
resuming  his  newspaper  with  a  yawn.  "  Dear 
Ned !  " 

Presently  the  room-door  opened,  and  the  young 
man  entered ;  to  whom  his  father  gently  waved  his 
hand,  and  smiled. 

"Are  you  at  leisure  for  a  little  conversation, 
sir?"  said  Edward. 


170  BAKNABY   BUDGE. 

''  Surely,  Ned.  I  am  always  at  leisure.  You 
kuow  my  constitution.  —  Have  you  breakfasted  ?  " 

"  Three  hours  ago." 

"  "What  a  very  early  dog !  "  cried  his  father,  con- 
templating him  from  behind  his  toothpick  with  a 
languid  smile. 

"  The  truth  is,"  said  Edward,  bringing  a  chair 
forward,  and  seating  himself  near  the  table,  "that 
I  slept  but  ill  last  night,  and  was  glad  to  rise.  The 
cause  of  my  uneasiness  cannot  but  be  known  to  you, 
sir  ;  and  it  is  upon  that  I  wish  to  speak." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  returned  his  father,  "  confide  in 
me,  I  beg.  But  you  know  my  constitution  —  don't 
be  prosy,  Ned." 

"  I  will  be  plain  and  brief,"  said  Edward. 

"Don't  say  you  will,  my  good  fellow,"  returned 
his  father,  crossing  his  legs,  "or  you  certainly  will 
not.     You  are  going  to  tell  me " 

"■  Plainly  this,  then,"  said  the  son  with  an  air  of 
great  concern,  "that  I  know  where  you  were  last 
night  —  from  being  on  the  spot,  indeed  —  and  whom 
you  saw,  and  what  your  purpose  was." 

"  You  don't  say  so ! "  cried  his  father.  "  I  am 
delighted  to  hear  it.  It  saves  us  the  worry,  and 
terrible  wear  and  tear,  of  a  long  explanation,  and  is 
a  great  relief  for  both.  At  the  very  house !  Why 
didn't  you  come  up  ?  I  should  have  been  charmed 
to  see  you." 

"I  knew  that  what  I  had  to  say  would  be  better 
said  after  a  night's  reflection,  when  both  of  ns  Avere 
cool,"  returned  the  son. 

"'Fore  Gad,  Ned,"  rejoined  the  father,  "I  was 
cool  enough  last  night.  That  detestable  IMaypole  ! 
By  some  infernal  contrivance  of  the  builder,  it  holds 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  171 

the  wind  and  keeps  it  fresh.  You  remember  the 
sharp  east  wind  that  blew  so  hard  five  weeks  ago  ? 
I  give  you  my  honor  it  was  rampant  in  that  ohi 
house  last  night,  though  out  of  doors  there  was  a 
dead  calm.     But  you  were  saying  —  " 

"I  was  about  to  say,  Heaven  knows  how  seriously 
and  earnestly,  that  you  have  made  me  wretched,  sir. 
Will  you  hear  me  gravely  for  a  moment  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Ned,"  said  his  father,  "  I  will  hear  you 
with  the  patience  of  an  anchorite.  Oblige  me  with 
the  milk." 

"  I  saw  Miss  Haredale  last  night,"  Edward  re- 
sumed when  he  had  complied  with  this  request ; 
"  her  uncle,  in  her  presence,  immediately  after  your 
interview,  and,  as  of  course,  I  know,  in  consequence 
of  it,  forbade  me  the  house,  and,  with  circumstances 
of  indignity  which  are  of  your  creation  I  am  sure, 
commanded  me  to  leave  it  on  the  instant." 

*•'  For  his  manner  of  doing  so  I  give  you  my  honor, 
Ned,  I  am  not  accountable,"  said  his  father.  "  That 
you  must  excuse.  He  is  a  mere  boor,  a  log,  a  brute, 
with  no  address  in  life. — Positively  a  fly  in  the 
jug.     The  first  I  have  seen  this  year." 

Edward  rose  and  paced  the  room.  His  impertur- 
bable ])arent  sipped  his  tea. 

"  Fatlier,"  said  the  young  man,  stopping  at  length 
before  him,  "  we  must  not  trifle  in  this  matter.  We 
must  not  deceive  each  other,  or  ourselves.  Let  me 
pursue  the  manly,  open  part  I  wish  to  take,  and  do 
not  repel  me  by  this  unkind  indifference." 

"  Whether  I  am  indifferent  or  no,"  returned  the 
other,  "  I  leave  you,  ray  dear  boy,  to  judge.  A  ride 
of  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  through  miry  roads  — 
a   Maypole    dinner  —  a   tete-a-tete   with    Haredale, 


172  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

which,  vanity  apart,  was  quite  a  Valentine  and 
Orson  business  — a  Maypole  bed  —  a  Ma3^pole  land- 
lord, and  a  Maypole  retinue  of  idiots  and  centaurs  ; 
—  whether  the  voluntary  endurance  of  these  things 
looks  like  indifference,  dear  Ned,  or  like  the  exces- 
sive anxiety,  and  devotion,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  of  a  parent,  you  shall  determine  for  your- 
self." 

'*  I  wish  you  to  consider,  sir,"  said  Edward,  "  in 
what  a  cruel  situation  I  am  placed.  Loving  Miss 
Haredale  as  I  do  —  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  interrupted  his  father  with  a 
compassionate  smile,  "  you  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
You  don't  know  anything  about  it.  There's  no  such 
thing,  I  assure  you.  Now,  do  take  my  word  for  it. 
You  have  good  sense,  Ned,  —  great  good  sense.  I 
wonder  you  should  be  guilty  of  such  amazing  ab- 
surdities.    You  really  surprise  me." 

"  I  repeat,"  said  his  son  firmly,  "  that  I  love  her. 
You  have  interposed  to  part  us,  and  have,  to  the 
extent  I  have  just  now  told  you  of,  succeeded.  May 
I  induce  you,  sir,  in  time  to  think  more  favorably  of 
our  attachment,  or  is  it  your  intention  and  your  fixed 
design  to  hold  us  asunder  if  you  can  ?  " 

"My  dear  Ned,"  returned  his  father,  taking  a 
pinch  of  snuff  and  pushing  his  box  towards  him, 
"  that  is  my  purpose  most  undoubtedly." 

**The  time  that  has  elapsed,"  rejoined  his  son, 
"since  I  began  to  know  her  worth,  has  flown  in  such 
a  dream  that  until  now  I  have  hardly  once  paused  to 
reflect  upon  my  true  position.  What  is  it  ?  From 
my  childhood  I  have  been  accustomed  to  luxury  and 
idleness,  and  have  been  bred  as  though  my  fortune 
were  large,  and  my  expectations  almost  without  a 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  173 

limit.  The  idea  of  wealth  has  been  familiarized  to 
me  from  my  cradle.  I  have  been  taught  to  look 
upon  those  means,  by  which  men  raise  themselves 
to  riches  and  distinction,  as  being  beyond  my  heed- 
ing, and  beneath  my  care.  I  have  been,  as  the 
phrase  is.  liberally  educated,  and  am  fit  for  nothing. 
I  find  myself  at  last  wholly  dependent  upon  you, 
Avith  no  resource  but  in  your  favor.  In  this  mo- 
mentous question  of  my  life  we  do  not,  and  it  would 
seem  we  never  can,  agree.  I  have  shrunk  instinc- 
tively alike  from  those  to  whom  you  have  urged  me 
to  pay  court,  and  from  the  motives  of  interest  and 
gain  which  have  rendered  them  in  your  eyes  visible 
objects  for  my  suit.  If  there  never  has  been  thus 
much  plain-speaking  between  us  before,  sir,  the 
fault  has  not  been  mine,  indeed.  If  I  seem  to  speak 
too  plainly  now,  it  is,  believe  me,  father,  in  the 
hope  that  there  may  be  a  franker  spirit,  a  worthier 
reliance,  and  a  kinder  confidence  between  us  in  time 
to  come." 

'•  ]My  good  fellow,"  said  his  smiling  father,  "you 
quite  affect  me.  Go  on,  my  dear  Edward,  I  beg. 
But  remember  your  promise.  There  is  great  ear- 
nestness, vast  candor,  a  manifest  sincerity  in  all  you 
say,  but  I  fear  I  observe  the  faintest  indications  of 
a  tendency  to  prose." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  sir." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  too,  Ned,  but  you  know  that  I 
cannot  fix  my  mind  for  any  long  period  upon  one 
subject.  If  you'll  come  to  the  point  at  once,  I'll 
imagine  all  that  ought  to  go  before,  and  conclude  it 
said.  Oblige  me  Avith  the  milk  again.  Listening 
invariably  makes  me  feverish." 

"What  I  would  say,  then,  tends  -to  this,"  said 


174  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

Edward.  '^  T  cannot  bear  this  absolute  dependence, 
sir,  even  upon  you.  Time  has  been  lost  and  oppor- 
tunity thrown  away,  but  T  am  yet  a  young  man,  and 
may  retrieve  it.  Will  you  give  me  the  means  of 
devoting  such  abilities  and  energies  as  I  possess  to 
some  worthy  pursuit  ?  Will  you  let  me  try  to 
make  for  myself  an  honorable  path  in  life  ?  For 
any  term  you  please  to  name  — say  for  five  years  if 
you  will  —  I  will  pledge  myself  to  move  no  further 
in  the  matter  of  our  difference  Avithout  your  full 
concurrence.  During  that  period  I  will  endeavor 
earnestly  and  patiently,  if  ever  man  did,  to  open 
some  prospect  for  mycelf,  and  free  you  from  the 
burden  you  fear  I  should  become  if  I  married  one 
whose  worth  and  beauty  are  her  chief  endowments. 
Will  yo\i  do  this,  sir  ?  At  the  expiration  of  the 
term  Ave  agree  upon,  let  us  discuss  this  subject 
again.  Till  then,  unless  it  is  revived  by  you,  let  it 
never  be  rencAved  between  us." 

"  My  dear  Ned,"  returned  his  father,  laying  down 
the  newspaper  at  which  he  had  been  glancing  care- 
lessly, and  throwing  himself  back  in  the  Avindow- 
seat,  "  I  believe  you  know  how  very  much  I  dislike 
what  are  called  family  affairs,  which  are  only  fit 
for  plebeian  Christmas-days,  and  have  no  manner  of 
business  Avith  people  of  our  condition.  But  as  you 
are  proceeding  upon  a  mistake,  Ned  —  altogether 
upon  a  mistake  —  I  will  conquer  my  repugnance  to 
entering  on  such  matters,  and  give  you  a  perfectly 
plain  and  candid  ansAver,  if  you  Avill  do  me  the  favor 
to  shut  the  door." 

EdAvard  having  obeyed  him,  he  took  an  elegant 
little  knife  from  his  pocket,  and  paring  his  nails, 
continued,  — 


BARNABY  BTJDGE.  175 

"  You  have  to  thank  nie,  Ned,  for  being  of  good 
family ;  for  your  mother,  charming  person  as  slie 
was,  and  almost  broken-hearted,  and  so  forth,  as  she 
left  me,  when  she  was  prematurely  compelled  to 
become  immortal  —  had  nothing  to  boast  of  in  that 
respect." 

"  Her  father  was  at  least  an  eminent  lawyer,  sir," 
said  Edward. 

"  Quite  right,  Ned  ;  perfectly  so.  He  stood  high 
at  the  bar,  had  a  great  name  and  great  wealth,  but 
having  risen  from  nothing  —  I  have  always  closed 
my  eyes  to  the  circumstance,  and  steadily  resisted 
its  contemplation,  but  I  fear  his  father  dealt  in  pork, 
and  that  his  business  did  once  involve  cow-heel  and 
sausages  —  he  wished  to  marry  his  daughter  into  a 
good  family.  He  had  his  heart's  desire,  Ned.  I 
was  a  younger  son's  younger  son,  and  I  married  her. 
We  each  had  our  object,  and  gained  it.  She  stepped 
at  once  into  the  politest  and  best  circles,  and  I 
stepped  into  a  fortune  which  I  assure  you  was  very 
necessary  to  my  comfort  —  quite  indispensable. 
Now,  my  good  fellow,  that  fortune  is  among  the 
things  that  have  been.  It  is  gone,  Ned,  and  has 
been  gone —  How  old  are  you?  I  always  for- 
get." 

"  Seven  and  twentj-,  sir." 

"  Are  you  indeed  ?  "  cried  his  father,  raising  his 
eyelids  in  a  languishing  surprise.  "  So  much ! 
Then  I  should  say,  Ned,  that,  as  nearly  as  I  remem- 
ber, its  skirts  vanished  from  human  knowledge  about 
eighteen  or  nineteen  years  ago.  It  was  about  that 
time  when  I  came  to  live  in  these  chambers  (once 
your  grandfather's,  and  bequeathed  by  that  extremely 
respectable  person  to  me),  and  commenced  to  live 


176  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

upon  an  inconsiderable  annuity  and  my  past 
reputation." 

"You  are  jesting  with  me,  sir,"  said  Edward. 

"Not  in  the  slightest  degree,  I  assure  you,"  re- 
turned his  father  with  great  composure.  "  These 
family  topics  are  so  extremely  dry,  that  I  am  sorry 
to  say  they  don't  admit  of  any  such  relief.  It  is  for 
that  reason,  and  because  they  have  an  appearance  of 
business,  that  I  dislike  them  so  very  much.  Well ! 
You  know  the  rest.  A  son,  Xed,  unless  he  is  old 
enough  to  be  a  companion  —  that  is  to  say,  unless 
he  is  some  two  or  three  and  twenty  —  is  not  the 
kind  of  thing  to  have  about  one.  He  is  a  restraint 
upon  his  father,  his  father  is  a  restraint  upon  him, 
and  they  make  each  other  mutually  uncomfortable. 
Therefore,  until  within  the  last  four  years  or  so  —  I 
have  a  poor  memory  for  dates,  and,  if  I  mistake, 
you  will  correct  me  in  your  own  mind  —  you  pur- 
sued your  studies  at  a  distance,  and  picked  up  a 
great  variety  of  accomplishments.  Occasionally  we 
passed  a  week  or  two  together  here,  and  disconcerted 
each  other  as  only  such  near  relations  can.  At  last 
you  came  home.  I  candidly  tell  you,  my  dear  boy, 
that  if  you  had  been  awkward  and  overgrown,  I  should 
have  exported  you  to  some  distant  part  of  the  world." 

"  I  wish  with  all  my  soul  you  had,  sir,"  said 
Edward. 

"No,  you  don't,  Ned,"  rejoined  his  father  coolly; 
"you  are  mistaken,  I  assure  you.  I  found  you  a 
handsome,  prepossessing,  elegant  fellow,  and  I  threw 
you  into  the  society  I  can  still  command.  Having 
done  that,  my  dear  fellow,  I  consider  that  I  have 
provided  for  you  in  life,  and  rely  on  your  doing 
something  to  provide  for  me  in  return." 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  177 

"  I  do  not  understand  your  meaning,  sir." 

"My  meaning,  Ned,  is  obvious  —  I  observe 
another  fly  in  the  cream-jug,  but  have  the  goodness 
not  to  take  it  out,  as  you  did  the  first,  for  their 
walk,  when  their  legs  are  milky,  is  extremely  un- 
graceful and  disagreeable  —  my  meaning  is,  that 
you  must  do  as  I  did ;  that  you  must  marry  well, 
and  make  the  most  of  yourself." 

"  A  mere  fortune-hunter ! "  cried  the  son  indig- 
nantly. 

*'  What  in  the  devil's  name,  Ned,  would  you  be  ?  " 
returned  the  father.  "  All  men  are  fortune-hunters, 
are  they  not  ?  The  law,  the  church,  the  court,  the 
camp  —  see  how  they  are  all  crowded  with  fortune- 
hunters,  jostling  each  other  in  the  pursuit.  The 
Stock  Exchange,  the  pulpit,  the  counting-house,  the 
royal  drawing-room,  the  Senate,  —  what  but  fortune- 
hunters  are  they  tilled  with?  A  fortune-hunter! 
Yes.  You  are  one ;  and  you  would  be  nothing  else, 
my  dear  Ned,  if  you  were  the  greatest  courtier, 
lawyer,  legislator,  prelate,  or  merchant  in  existence. 
If  you  are  squeamish  and  moral,  Ned,  console  your- 
self with  the  reflection  that  at  the  worst  your  for- 
tune-hunting can  make  but  one  person  miserable 
or  unhappy.  How  many  people  do  you  suppose 
these  other  kinds  of  huntsmen  crush  in  following 
their  sport  —  hundreds  at  a  step  ?    Or  thousands  ?  " 

The  young  man  leant  his  head  \x\)0\\  his  hand, 
and  made  no  answer. 

*'I  am  quite  charmed,"  said  the  father,  rising, 
and  walking  slowly  to  and  fro  —  stopping  now  and 
then  to  glance  at  himself  in  a  mirror,  or  survey  a 
picture  through  his  glass  with  the  air  of  a  connois- 
seur, "  that  we  have  had  this  conversation,  Ned,  ua- 

VOL.  I.-12. 


178  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

promising  as  it  was.  It  establishes  a  confidence 
between  us  which  is  quite  delightful,  and  was  cer- 
tainly necessary,  though  how  you  can  ever  have 
mistaken  our  position  and  designs,  I  confess  I  can- 
not understand.  I  conceived,  until  I  found  your 
fancy  for  this  girl,  that  all  these  points  were  tacitly 
agreed  upon  between  us." 

"I  knew  you  were  embarrassed,  sir,"  returned 
the  son,  raising  his  head  for  a  moment,  and  then 
falling  into  his  former  attitude,  "  but  I  had  no  idea 
we  were  the  beggared  wretches  you  describe.  How 
could  I  suppose  it,  bred  as  I  have  been ;  witnessing 
the  life  you  have  always  led ;  and  the  appearance 
you  have  always  made  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,*'  said  the  father  — "  for  you 
really  talk  so  like  a  child  that  I  must  call  you  one 
—  you  were  bred  upon  a  careful  principle ;  the  very 
manner  of  your  education,  I  assure  you,  maintained 
my  credit  surprisingly.  As  to  the  life  I  lead,  I 
must  lead  it,  Ned.  I  must  have  these  little  refine- 
ments about  me.  I  have  always  been  used  to  them, 
and  I  cannot  exist  without  them.  They  must  sur- 
round me,  you  observe,  and  therefore  they  are  here. 
With  regard  to  our  circumstances,  Ned,  you  may  set 
your  mind  at  rest  upon  that  score.  They  are  desper- 
ate. Your  own  appearance  is  by  no  means  despic- 
able, and  our  joint  pocket  money  alone  devours  our 
income.     That's  the  truth." 

"  Why  have  I  never  known  this  before  ?  Why 
have  you  encouraged  me,  sir,  to  an  expenditure  and 
mode  of  life  to  which  we  have  no  right  or  title  ?  " 

"  My  good  fellow,"  returned  his  father,  more  com- 
passionately than  ever,  "  if  you  made  no  appearance, 
how  could  you  possibly  succeed  in  the  pursuit  for 


BARNABY  ETJDGE.  179 

which  I  destined  you  ?  As  to  our  mode  of  life, 
every  man  has  a  right  to  live  in  the  best  way  he 
can ;  and  to  make  himself  as  comfortable  as  he  can, 
or  he  is  an  unnatural  scoundrel.  Our  debts,  I  grant, 
are  very  great,  and  therefore  it  the  more  behooves 
you,  as  a  young  man  of  principle  and  honor,  to  pay 
them  off  as  speedily  as  possible." 

"The  villain's  part,"  muttered  Edward,  "that  I 
have  unconsciously  played !  I  to  win  the  heart  of 
Emma  Haredale  !  I  would,  for  her  sake,  I  had  died 
first ! " 

"I  am  glad  you  see,  Ned,"  returned  his  father, 
"how  perfectly  self-evident  it  is  that  nothing  can 
be  done  in  that  quarter.  But  apart  from  this,  and 
the  necessity  of  your  speedily  bestowing  yourself  in 
another  (as  you  know  you  could  to-morrow,  if  you 
chose),  I  wish  you  would  look  upon  it  pleasantly. 
In  a  religious  point  of  view  alone,  how  could  you 
ever  think  of  uniting  yourself  to  a  Catholic,  unless 
she  was  amazingly  rich  ?  You  who  ought  to  be  so 
very  Protestant,  coming  of  such  a  Protestant  family 
as  you  do.  Let  us  be  moral,  Ned,  or  we  are  nothing. 
Even  if  one  could  set  that  objection  aside,  which  is 
impossible,  we  come  to  another  which  is  quite  con- 
clusive. The  very  idea  of  marrying  a  girl  whose 
father  was  killed,  like  meat !  Good  God,  Ned,  how 
disagreeable  !  Consider  the  impossibility  of  having 
any  respect  for  your  father-in-law  under  such  un- 
pleasant circumstances —  think  of  his  having  been 
'  viewed '  by  jurors,  and  '  sat  upon  '  by  coroners,  and 
of  his  very  doubtful  position  in  the  family  ever  after- 
wards. It  seems  to  me  such  an  indelicate  sort  of 
thing,  that  I  really  think  the  girl  ought  to  have 
been  put  to  death  by  the  state  to  prevent  its  hap- 


180  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

peiiing.  But  I  tease  you  perhaps.  You  would 
rather  be  alone.  My  dear  Ned,  most  willingly. 
God  bless  you !  I  shall  be  going  out  presently, 
but  we  shall  meet  to-night,  or,  if  not  to-night, 
certainly  to-morrow.  Take  care  of  yourself  in  the 
mean  time  for  both  our  sakes.  You  are  a  person  of 
great  consequence  to  me,  Ned  —  of  vast  consequence 
indeed.     God  bless  you  ! " 

With  these  words,  the  father,  who  had  been  ar- 
ranging his  cravat  in  the  glass  while  he  uttered 
them  in  a  disconnected  careless  manner,  withdrew, 
humming  a  tune  as  he  went.  The  son,  who  had 
appeared  so  lost  in  thought  as  not  to  hear  or  under- 
stand them,  remained  quite  still  and  silent.  After 
the  lapse  of  half  an  hour  or  so,  the  elder  Chester, 
gayly  dressed,  went  out.  The  younger  still  sat  with 
his  head  resting  on  his  hands,  in  what  appeared  to 
be  a  kind  of  stupor. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  SERIES  of  pictures  representing  the  streets  of 
London  in  the  night,  even  at  the  comparatively 
recent  date  of  this  tale,  would  present  to  the  eye 
something  so  very  different  in  character  from  the 
reality  which  is  witnessed  in  these  times,  that  it 
would  be  difficult  for  the  beholder  to  recognize  his 
most  familiar  walks  in  the  altered  aspect  of  little 
more  than  half  a  century  ago. 

They  were,  one  and  all,  from  the  broadest  and 
best  to  the  narrowest  and  least  frequented,  very 
dark.  The  oil  and  cotton  lamps,  though  regularly 
trimmed  twice  or  thrice  in  the  long  winter  nights, 
burnt  feebly  at  the  best :  and  at  a  late  hour,  when 
they  were  unassisted  by  the  lamps  and  candles  in 
the  shops,  cast  but  a  narrow  track  of  doubtful  light 
upon  the  footway,  leaving  the  projecting  doors  and 
house-fronts  in  the  deepest  gloom.  Many  of  the 
courts  and  lanes  were  left  in  total  darkness ;  those 
of  the  meaner  sort,  where  one  glimmering  light 
twinkled  for  a  score  of  houses,  being  favored  in  no 
slight  degree.  Even  in  these  places  the  inhabitants 
had  often  good  reason  for  extinguishing  their  lamp 
as  soon  as  it  was  lighted;  and  the  watch  being 
utterly  inefficient  and  powerless  to  prevent  them, 
they  did  so  at  their  pleasure.  Thus,  in  the  lightest 
181 


182  BAKNABY   RTJDGE. 

thoroughfares,  there  was  at  every  turn  some  obscure 
and  dangerous  spot  whither  a  thief  might  fly  for 
shelter,  and  few  would  care  to  follow ;  and  the 
City  being  belted  round  by  fields,  green  lanes, 
waste  grounds,  and  lonely  roads,  dividing  it  at 
that  time  from  the  suburbs  that  have  joined  it 
since,  escape,  even  when  the  pursuit  was  hot,  was 
rendered  easy. 

It  is  no  wonder  that,  with  these  favoring  circum- 
stances in  full  and  constant  operation,  street  rob- 
beries, often  accompanied  by  cruel  Avouuds,  and  not 
unfrequently  by  loss  of  life,  should  have  been  of 
nightly  occurrence  in  the  very  heart  of  London,  or 
that  quiet  folks  should  have  had  great  dread  of 
traversing  its  streets  after  the  shops  were  closed. 
It  was  not  unusual,  for  those  who  wended  home 
alone  at  midnight,  to  keep  the  middle  of  the  road, 
the  better  to  guard  against  surprise  from  lurking 
footpads ;  few  would  venture  to  repair  at  a  late 
hour  to  Kentish  Town  or  Hampstead,  or  even  to 
Kensington  or  Chelsea,  unarmed  and  unattended; 
while  he  who  had  been  loudest  and  most  valiant  at 
the  supper-table  or  the  tavern,  and  had  but  a  mile 
or  so  to  go,  was  glad  to  fee  a  link-boy  to  escort  him 
home. 

There  were  many  other  characteristics  —  not  quite 
so  disagreeable  —  about  the  thoroughfares  of  Lon- 
don then,  with  which  they  had  been  long  familiar. 
Some  of  the  shops,  es})ecially  those  to  the  eastward 
of  Temple  Bar,  still  adhered  to  the  old  practice  of 
hanging  out  a  sign;  and  the  creaking  and  swinging 
of  these  boards  in  their  iron  frames,  on  windy  nights, 
formed  a  strange  and  mournful  concert  for  the  ears 
of  those  who  lay  awake  in  bed  or  hurried  through 


BARNABY  RtJDGE.  183 

the  streets.  Long  stands  of  hackney  chairs  and 
groups  of  chairmen,  compared  with  whom  the 
coachmen  of  our  day  are  gentle  and  polite,  ob- 
structed the  way  and  filled  the  air  with  clamor; 
night-cellars,  indicated  by  a  little  stream  of  light 
crossing  the  pavement,  and  stretching  out  half-way 
into  the  road,  and  by  the  stifled  roar  of  voices  from 
below,  yawned  for  the  reception  and  entertainment 
of  the  most  abandoned  of  both  sexes ;  under  every 
shed  and  bulk  small  groups  of  link-boys  gamed 
away  the  earnings  of  the  day ;  or  one  more  weary 
than  the  rest  gave  way  to  sleep,  and  let  the  frag- 
ment of  his  torch  fall  hissing  on  the  puddled 
ground. 

Then  there  was  the  watch,  with  staff  and  lantern, 
crying  the  hour  and  the  kind  of  weather  ;  and  those 
who  woke  up  at  his  voice,  and  turned  them  round  in 
bed,  were  glad  to  hear  it  rained,  or  snowed,  or  blew, 
or  froze,  for  very  comfort's  sake.  The  solitary  pas- 
senger was  startled  by  the  chairmen's  cry  of  "  By 
your  leave  there ! "  as  two  came  trotting  past  him 
with  their  empty  vehicle  —  carried  backwards  to 
show  its  being  disengaged  —  and  hurried  to  the 
nearest  stand.  Many  a  private  chair  too,  enclos- 
ing some  fine  lady,  monstrously  hooped  and  furbe- 
lowed,  and  preceded  by  running  footmen  bearing 
flambeaux  —  for  which  extinguishers  are  yet  sus- 
pended before  the  doors  of  a  few  houses  of  the 
better  sort  —  made  the  way  gay  and  light  as  it 
danced  along,  and  darker  and  more  dismal  when 
it  had  passed.  It  was  not  unusual  for  these  run- 
ning gentry,  who  carried  it  with  a  very  high  hand, 
to  quarrel  in  the  servants'  hall  while  waiting  for 
their  masters  and  mistresses ;  and,  falling  to  blows 


184  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

either  there  or  in  the  street  without,  to  strew  the 
place  of  skirmish  with  hair-powder,  fragments  of 
bag-wigs,  and  scattered  nosegays.  Gaming,  the 
vice  which  ran  so  high  among  all  classes  (the 
fashion  being,  of  course,  set  by  the  upper),  was 
generally  the  cause  of  those  disputes ;  for  cards 
and  dice  were  as  openly  used,  and  worked  as  much 
mischief,  and  yielded  as  much  excitement  below- 
stairs  as  above.  While  incidents  like  these,  arising 
out  of  drums  and  masquerades  and  parties  at  qua- 
drille, were  passing  at  the  West-end  of  the  town, 
heavy  stage-coaches  and  scarce  heavier  wagons  were 
lumbering  slowly  towards  the  City,  the  coachman, 
guard,  and  passengers  armed  to  the  teeth,  and 
the  coach  —  a  day  or  so,  perhaps,  behind  its  time, 
but  that  was  nothing  —  despoiled  by  highwaymen ; 
who  made  no  scruple  to  attack,  alone  and  single- 
handed,  a  whole  caravan  of  goods  and  men,  and 
sometimes  shot  a  passenger  or  two,  and  were  some- 
times shot  themselves,  just  as  the  case  might  be. 
On  the  morrow,  rumors  of  this  new  act  of  daring 
on  the  road  yielded  matter  for  a  few  hours'  conver- 
sation through  the  town,  and  a  Public  Progress  of 
some  fine  gentleman  (half  driink)  to  Tyburn,  dressed 
in  the  newest  fashion,  and  damning  the  ordinary 
with  unspeakable  gallantry  and  grace,  furnished  to 
the  populace  at  once  a  pleasant  excitement  and  a 
wholesome  and  profound  example. 

Among  all  the  dangerous  characters  who,  in  such 
a  state  of  society,  prowled  and  skulked  in  the 
metropolis  at  night,  there  was  one  man  from  whom 
many  as  uncouth  and  fierce  as  he  shrunk  with  an 
involuntary  dread.  Who  he  was,  or  whence  he 
came,  was  a  question  often  asked,  but  which  none 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  185 

could  answer.  His  name  was  unknown,  he  had 
never  been  seen  until  within  eight  days  or  there- 
abouts, and  was  equally  a  stranger  to  the  old  ruf- 
fians, upon  whose  haunts  he  ventured  fearlessly,  as 
to  the  young.  He  could  be  no  spy,  for  he  never 
removed  his  slouched  hat  to  look  about  him,  entered 
into  conversation  with  no  man,  heeded  nothing  that 
passed,  listened  to  no  discourse,  regarded  nobody 
that  came  or  went.  But  so  surely  as  the  dead  of 
night  set  in,  so  surely  this  man  was  in  the  midst 
of  the  loose  concourse  in  the  night-cellar  where  out- 
casts of  every  grade  resorted ;  and  there  he  sat  till 
morning. 

He  was  not  only  a  spectre  at  their  licentious 
feasts ;  a  something  in  the  midst  of  their  revelry 
and  riot  that  chilled  and  haunted  them  ;  but  out  of 
doors  he  was  the  same.  Directly  it  was  dark,  he 
was  abroad  —  never  in  company  with  any  one,  but 
always  alone ;  never  lingering  or  loitering,  but 
always  walking  swiftly ;  and  looking  (so  they  said 
who  had  seen  him)  over  his  shoulder  from  time  to 
time,  and,  as  he  did  so,  quickening  his  pace.  In  the 
fields,  the  lanes,  the  roads,  in  all  quarters  of  the 
town  —  east,  west,  north,  and  south  —  that  man  was 
seen  gliding  on  like  a  shadow.  He  was  always  hur- 
rying away.  Those  who  encountered  him  saw  him 
steal  past,  caught  sight  of  the  backward  glance,  and 
so  lost  him  in  the  darkness. 

This  constant  restlessness  and  flitting  to  and  fro 
gave  rise  to  strange  stories.  He  was  seen  in  such 
distant  and  remote  places,  at  times  so  nearly  tallying 
with  each  other,  that  some  doubted  whether  there 
were  not  two  of  them,  or  more  —  some,  whether  he 
had  not  unearthly  means  of  travelling  from  spot  to 


186  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

spot.  The  footpad  hiding  in  the  ditch  had  marked 
him  passing  like  a  ghost  along  its  brink ;  tlie  vagrant 
had  met  him  on  the  dark  high-road ;  the  beggar  had 
seen  him  pause  upon  the  bridge  to  look  down  at  the 
water,  and  then  sweep  on  again  ;  they  who  dealt  in 
bodies  with  the  surgeons  could  swear  he  slept  in 
churchyards,  and  that  they  had  beheld  him  glide 
away  among  the  tombs  on  their  approach.  And  as 
they  told  these  stories  to  each  other,  one  who  had 
looked  about  him  would  pull  his  neighbor  by  the 
sleeve,  and  there  he  would  be  among  them. 

At  last,  one  man  —  he  was  of  those  whose  com- 
merce lay  among  the  graves  —  resolved  to  question 
this  strange  companion.  Next  night,  when  he  had 
eat  his  poor  meal  voraciously  (lie  was  accustomed  to 
do  that,  they  had  observed,  as  though  he  had  no 
other  in  the  day),  this  fellow  sat  down  at  his  elbow. 

"  A  black  night,  master ! " 

"  It  is  a  black  night ! " 

"  Blacker  than  last,  though  that  was  pitchy,  too. 
Didn't  I  pass  you  near  the  turnpike  in  the  Oxford 
Road  ?  " 

"  It's  like  you  may.     I  don't  know." 

'•  Come,  come,  master,"  cried  the  fellow,  urged  on 
by  the  looks  of  his  comrades,  a,nd  slapping  him  on. 
the  shoulder ;  "  be  more  companionable  and  commu- 
nicative. Be  more  the  gentleman  in  this  good  com- 
pany. There  are  tales  among  us  that  you  have  sold 
yourself  to  the  devil,  and  I  know  not  what." 

"  We  all  have,  have  we  not  ? "  returned  the 
stranger,  looking  up.  "  If  we  were  fewer  in  number, 
perhaps  he  would  give  better  wages." 

"It  goes  rather  hard  with  you,  indeed,"  said  the 
fellow,  as  the   stranger  disclosed  his  haggard  tin- 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  187 

■washed  face  and  torn  clothes.  "What  of  that? 
Be  merry,  master.  A  stave  of  a  roaring  song, 
now  —  " 

"  Sing  you,  if  you  desire  to  hear  one,"  replied  the 
other,  shaking  him  roughly  off;  "and  don't  touch 
me  if  you're  a  prudent  man  ;  I  carry  arms  which  go 
off  easily  —  they  have  done  so  before  now  —  and 
make  it  dangerous  for  strangers  who  don't  know  the 
trick  of  them  to  lay  hands  upon  me." 

"  Do  you  threaten  ?  "  said  the  fellow. 

"Yes,"  returned  the  other,  rising  and  turning 
upon  him,  and  looking  fiercely  round  as  if  in  appre- 
hension of  a  general  attack. 

His  voice,  and  look,  and  bearing  —  all  expressive 
of  the  wildest  recklessness  and  desperation  — 
daunted  while  they  repelled  the  bystanders.  Al- 
though in  a  very  different  sphere  of  action  now, 
they  were  not  without  much  of  the  effect  they  had 
wrought  at  the  Maypole  Inn. 

"  I  am  what  you  all  are,  and  live  as  you  all  do," 
said  the  man  sternly  after  a  short  silence.  "  I  am  in 
hiding  here  like  the  rest,  and,  if  we  were  surprised, 
would  perhaps  do  my  part  with  the  best  of  ye.  If 
it's  mj  humor  to  be  left  to  myself,  let  me  have  it. 
Otherwise,"  —  and  here  he  swore  a  tremendous 
oath,  —  "  there'll  be  mischief  done  in  this  place, 
though  there  are  odds  of  a  score  against  me." 

A  low  murmur,  having  its  origin  perhaps  in  a 
dread  of  the  man  and  the  mystery  that  surrounded 
him,  or  perhaps  in  a  sincere  opinion,  on  the  part  of 
some  of  those  present,  that  it  would  be  an  incon- 
venient precedent  to  meddle  too  curiously  with  a 
gentleman's  private  affairs  if  he  saw  reason  to  con- 
ceal them,  warned  the  fellow  who  had  occasioned 


188  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

this  discussion  that  he  had  best  pursue  it  no  further. 
After  a  short  time  the  strange  man  lay  down  upon  a 
bench  to  sleep,  and  when  they  thought  of  him 
again,  they  found  that  he  was  gone. 

Next  night,  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  he  was  abroad 
again  and  traversing  the  streets  ;  he  was  before  the 
locksmith's  house  more  than  once,  but  the  family 
were  out,  and  it  was  close  shiit.  This  night  he 
crossed  London  Bridge  and  passed  into  Southwark. 
As  he  glided  down  a  by-street,  a  woman  with  a  little 
basket  on  her  arm  turned  into  it  at  the  other  end. 
Directly  he  observed  her,  he  sought  the  shelter  of 
an  archway,  and  stood  aside  until  she  had  passed. 
Then  he  emerged  cautiously  from  his  hiding-place, 
and  followed. 

She  went  into  several  shops  to  purchase  various 
kinds  of  household  necessaries,  and  round  every 
place  at  which  she  stopped  he  hovered  like  her  evil 
spirit ;  following  her  when  she  re-appeared.  It  was 
nigh  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  passengers  in  the  streets 
were  thinning  fast,  when  she  turned,  doubtless  to  go 
home.     The  phantom  still  followed  her. 

She  turned  into  the  same  by-street  in  which  he 
had  seen  her  first,  which,  being  free  from  shops,  and 
narrow,  was  extremely  dark.  She  quickened  her 
pace  here,  as  though  distrustful  of  being  stopped, 
and  robbed  of  such  trifling  property  as  she  carried 
with  her.  He  crept  along  on  the  other  side  of  the 
road.  Had  she  been  gifted  with  the  speed  of  wind, 
it  seemed  as  if  his  terrible  shadow  would  have 
tracked  her  down. 

At  length  the  widow  —  for  she  it  was  —  reached 
her  own  door,  and,  panting  for  breath,  paused  to 
take  the  key  from  her  basket.     In  a  flush  and  glow 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  189 

with  the  haste  she  had  made,  and  the  pleasure  of 
being  safe  at  home,  she  stooped  to  draw  it  out  when, 
raising  her  head,  she  saw  him  standing  silently  be- 
side her ;  the  apparition  of  a  dream. 

His  hand  was  on  her  mouth,  but  that  was  need- 
less, for  her  tongue  clove  to  its  roof,  and  her  power 
of  utterance  was  gone.  "  I  have  been  looking  for 
you  many  nights.  Is  the  house  empty  ?  Answer 
me.     Is  any  one  inside  ?  " 

She  could  only  answer  by  a  rattle  in  her  throat. 

"  Make  me  a  sign." 

She  seemed  to  indicate  that  there  was  no  one 
there.  He  took  the  key,  unlocked  the  door,  carried 
her  in,  and  secured  it  carefully  behind  them. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

It  was  a  chilly  night,  and  the  fire  in  the  widow's 
parlor  had  burnt  low.  Her  strange  companion 
placed  her  in  a  chair,  and  stooping  down  before  the 
half-extinguished  ashes,  raked  them  together  and 
fanned  them  with  his  hat.  From  time  to  time  he 
glanced  at  her  over  his  shoulder,  as  though  to  assure 
himself  of  her  remaining  quiet  and  making  no 
effort  to  depart ;  and  that  done,  busied  himself 
about  the  fire  again. 

It  was  not  without  reason  that  he  took  these 
pains,  for  his  dress  was  dank  and  drenched  with 
wet,  his  jaws  rattled  with  cold,  and  he  shivered 
from  head  to  foot.  It  had  rained  hard  during  the 
previous  night,  and  for  some  hours  in  the  morning, 
but  since  noon  it  had  been  fine.  Wheresoever  he 
had  passed  the  hours  of  darkness,  his  condition 
sufficiently  betokened  that  many  of  them  had  been 
spent  beneath  the  open  sky.  Besmeared  with  mire  ; 
his  saturated  clothes  clinging  with  a  damp  embrace 
about  his  limbs ;  his  beard  unshaven,  his  face  un- 
washed, his  meagre  cheeks  worn  into  deep  hollows, 
—  a  more  miserable  wretch  could  hardly  be  than 
this  man  who  now  cowered  down  upon  the  widow's 
hearth,  and  watched  the  struggling  flame  with 
bloodshot  eyes. 

190 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  191 

She  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  fearing, 
as  it  seemed,  to  look  towards  him.  So  they  remained 
for  some  short  time  in  silence.  Glancing  round 
again,  he  asked  at  length,  — 

"  Is  this  your  house  ?  " 

"  It  is.  Why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  do  you 
darken  it  ?  " 

"  Give  me  meat  and  drink,"  he  answered  sullenly, 
"  or  I  dare  do  more  than  that.  The  very  marrow  in 
my  bones  is  cold  with  wet  and  hunger.  I  must  have 
warmth  and  food,  and  I  will  have  them  here." 

*'  You  were  the  robber  on  the  Chigwell  Road." 

"  I  was." 

"  And  nearly  a  murderer  then." 

"  The  will  was  not  wanting.  There  was  one  came 
upon  me  and  raised  the  hue  and  cry,  that  it  would 
have  gone  hard  with,  but  for  his  nimbleness.  I 
made  a  thrust  at  him." 

"  You  thrust  your  sword  at  hiyn  f "  cried  the 
widow,  looking  upwards.  "  You  hear  this  man ! 
you  hear  and  saw  ! ' ' 

He  looked  at  her,  as,  with  her  head  thrown  back, 
and  her  hands  tight  clenched  together,  she  uttered 
these  words  in  an  agony  of  appeal.  Then,  starting 
to  his  feet  as  she  had  done,  he  advanced  towards 
her. 

"  Beware  !  "  she  cried  in  a  suppressed  voice,  whose 
firmness  stopped  him  midway.  "  Do  not  so  much 
as  touch  me  with  a  finger,  or  you  are  lost ;  body  and 
soul  you  are  lost." 

"  Hear  me,"  he  replied,  menacing  her  with  his 
hand.  "  I,  that  in  the  form  of  a  man  live  the  life 
of  a  hunted  beast ;  that  in  the  body  am  a  spirit,  a 
ghost  upon  the  earth,  a  thing  from  which  all  crea- 


192  BARNABY  liUDGE. 

tui-es  shrink,  save  those  cursed  beings  of  another 
world  who  will  not  leave  me ;  —  I  am,  in  my  des- 
peration of  this  night,  past  all  fear  but  that  of  the 
hell  in  wliieh  I  exist  from  day  to  day.  Give  the 
alarm,  cry  out,  refuse  to  shelter  me.  I  will  not 
hurt  you.  But  I  will  not  be  taken  alive ;  and  so 
surely  as,  you  threaten  me  above  your  breath,  I  fall 
a  dead  man  on  this  floor.  The  blood  with  which  I 
sprinkle  it  be  on  you  and  yours,  in  the  name  of  the 
Evil  Spirit  that  tempts  men  to  their  ruin  ! " 

As  he  spoke,  he  took  a  pistol  from  his  breast,  and 
firmly  clutched  it  in  his  hand. 

"  Remove  this  man  from  me,  good  Heaven ! " 
cried  the  widow.  "  In  thy  grace  and  mercy,  give 
him  one  minute's  penitence,  and  strike  him  dead !  " 

"  It  has  no  such  purpose,"  he  said,  confronting 
her.  "  It  is  deaf.  Give  me  to  eat  and  drink,  lest  I 
do  that  it  cannot  help  my  doing,  and  will  not  do  for 
you." 

''  Will  you  leave  me  if  I  do  thus  much  ?  Will 
you  leave  me  and  return  no  more  ?  " 

"  I  will  promise  nothing,"  he  rejoined,  seating 
himself  at  the  table,  "  nothing  but  this  —  I  will 
execute  my  threat  if  you  betray  me." 

She  rose  at  length,  and  going  to  a  closet  or  pantry 
in  the  room,  brought  out  some  fragments  of  cold 
meat  and  bread,  and  put  them  on  the  table.  He 
asked  for  brandy  and  for  water.  These  she  pro- 
duced likewise ;  and  he  ate  and  drank  with  the 
voracity  of  a  famished  hound.  All  the  time  he  was 
so  engaged  she  kept  at  the  uttermost  distance  of  the 
chamber,  and  sat  there  shuddering,  but  with  her 
face  towards  him.  She  never  turned  her  back  upon 
him  once  ;  aud  although,  when  she  passed  him  (as 


BAENABY   EUDGE.  193 

she  was  obliged  to  do  in  going  to  and  from  the  cup- 
board), she  gathered  the  skirts  of  her  garment  about 
her,  as  if  even  its  touching  his  by  chance  were  horri- 
ble to  think  of,  still,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  dread 
and  terror,  she  kept  her  face  directed  to  his  own,  and 
watched  his  every  movement. 

His  repast  ended  —  if  that  can  be  called  one  which 
was  a  mere  ravenous  satisfying  of  the  calls  of  hun- 
ger—  he  moved  his  chair  towards  the  fire  again,  and 
warming  himself  before  the  blaze  which  had  now 
sprung  brightly  up,  accosted  her  once  more. 

"  I  am  an  outcast,  to  whom  a  roof  above  his  head 
is  often  an  uncommon  luxury,  and  the  food  a  beggar 
would  reject  is  delicate  fare.  You  live  here  at  your 
ease.     Do  you  live  alone  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,"  she  made  answer  with  an  effort. 

"  Who  dwells  here  besides  ?  " 

"  One  —  it  is  no  matter  who.  You  had  best 
begone,  or  he  may  find  you  here.  "Why  do  you 
linger  ?  " 

"  For  warmth,"  he  replied,  spreading  out  his  hands 
before  the  fire.  "For  warmth.  You  are  rich, 
perhaps  ?  " 

"  Very,"  she  said  faintly.  "  Very  rich.  No  doubt 
I  am  very  rich." 

"  At  least  you  are  not  penniless.  You  have  some 
money.     You  were  making  purchases  to-night." 

"  I  have  a  little  left.     It  is  but  a  few  shillings." 

"  Give  me  your  purse.  You  had  it  in  your  hand 
at  the  door.     Give  it  to  me." 

She  stepped  to  the  table  and  laid  it  down.  He 
reached  across,  took  it  up,  and  told  the  contents  into 
his  hand.  As  he  was  counting  them,  she  listened 
for  a  moment,  and  sprung  towards  him. 

VOL.  I.-13. 


194  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

"  Take  what  there  is,  take  all,  take  more  if  more 
were   there,  but   go   before  it  is  too  late.     I  have 
heard  a  wayward  step  without,  I  know  full  well.     It 
will  return  directly.     Begone." 
<'  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Do  not  stop  to  ask.  I  will  not  answer.  Much 
as  I  dread  to  touch  you,  I  would  drag  you  to  the 
door  if  I  possessed  the  strength,  rather  than  you 
should  lose  an  instant.  Miserable  wretch  !  jBy  from 
this  place." 

"If  there  are  spies  without,  I  am  safer  here," 
replied  the  man,  standing  aghast.  "  I  will  remain 
here,  and  will  not  fly  till  the  danger  is  past." 

"  It  is  too  late ! "  cried  the  widow,  who  had 
listened  for  the  step,  and  not  to  him.  "Hark  to 
that  foot  upon  the  ground.  Do  you  tremble  to  hear 
it  ?     It  is  my  son,  my  idiot  son !  " 

As  she  said  this  wildly,  there  came  a  heavy  knock- 
ing at  the  door.     He  looked  at  her,  and  she  at  him. 
"  Let  him  come  in,"  said  the  man  hoarsely.     "  I 
fear  him  less  than  the  dark,  houseless  night.     He 
knocks  again.     Let  him  come  in ! " 

"  The  dread  of  this  hour,"  returned  the  widow, 
"  has  been  upon  me  all  my  life,  and  I  will  not.  Evil 
will  fall  upon  him,  if  you  stand  eye  to  eye.  My 
blighted  boy  !  Oh  !  all  good  angels  who  know  the 
truth,  hear  a  poor  mother's  prayer,  and  spare  my  boy 
from  knowledge  of  this  man  !  " 

"  He  rattles  at  the  shutters ! "  cried  the  man. 
"  He  calls  you.  That  voice  and  cry  !  It  was  he 
who  grappled  with  me  in  the  road.     Was  it  he  ?  " 

She  had  sunk  upon  her  knees,  and  so  knelt  down, 
moving  her  lips,  but  uttering  no  sound.  As  he 
gazed  upon  her,  uncertain  what  to  do  or  where  to 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  195 

turn,  the  shutters  flew  open.  He  had  barely  time  to 
catch  a  knife  from  the  table,  sheath  it  in  the  loose 
sleeve  of  his  coat,  hide  in  the  closet,  and  do  all  with 
a  lightning's  speed,  when  Barnaby  tapped  at  the 
bare  glass,  and  raised  the  sash  exultingly. 

"  Why,  who  can  keep  out  Grip  and  me  ? "  he 
cried,  thrusting  in  his  head,  and  staring  round  the 
room.  *'  Are  you  there,  mother  ?  How  long  you 
keep  us  from  the  fire  and  light ! " 

She  stammered  some  excuse,  and  tendered  him 
her  hand.  But  Barnaby  sprung  lightly  in  without 
assistance,  and  putting  his  arms  about  her  neck, 
kissed  her  a  hundred  times. 

"We  have  been  afield,  mother — leaping  ditches, 
scrambling  through  hedges,  running  down  steep 
banks,  up  and  away,  and  hurrying  on.  The  wind 
has  been  blowing,  and  the  rushes  and  young  plants 
bowing  and  bending  to  it,  lest  it  should  do  them 
harm,  the  cowards  —  and  Grip  —  ha,  ha,  ha  !  — 
brave  Grip,  who  cares  for  nothing,  and  when  the 
wind  rolls  him  over  in  the  dust,  turns  manfully  to 
bite  it  —  Grip,  bold  Grip,  has  quarrelled  with  every 
little  bowing  twig  —  thinking,  he  told  me,  that  it 
mocked  him  —  and  has  worried  it  like  a  bulldog. 
Ha,  ha,  ha ! " 

The  raven,  in  his  little  basket  at  his  master's  back, 
hearing  this  frequent  mention  of  his  name  in  a  tone 
of  exultation,  expressed  his  sympathy  by  crowing 
like  a  cock,  and  afterwards  running  over  his  various 
phrases  of  speech  with  such  rapidity,  and  in  so 
many  varieties  of  hoarseness,  that  they  sounded 
like  the  murmurs  of  a  crowd  of  people. 

"  He  takes  such  care  of  me,  besides ! "  said 
Barnaby.    "  Such  care,  mother !     He  watches  all  the 


196  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

time  I  sleep,  and  when  I  shut  my  eyes  and  make 
believe  to  slumber,  he  practises  new  learning  softly  ; 
but  he  keeps  his  eye  on  me  the  while,  and  if  he 
sees  me  laugh,  though  never  so  little,  stops  directly. 
He  won't  surprise  me  till  he's  perfect." 

The  raven  crowed  again  in  a  rapturous  manner 
which  plainly  said,  ''  Those  are  certainly  some  of 
my  characteristics,  and  I  glory  in  them."  In  the 
mean  time,  Barnaby  closed  the  window  and  secured 
it,  and  coming  to  the  fireplace,  prepared  to  sit  down 
with  his  face  to  the  closet.  But  his  mother  pre- 
vented this  by  hastily  taking  that  side  herself,  and 
motioning  him  towards  the  other. 

"  How  pale  you  are  to-night ! "  said  Barnaby, 
leaning  on  his  stick.  "  We  have  been  cruel.  Grip, 
and  made  her  anxious." 

Anxious  in  good  truth,  and  sick  at  heart !  The 
listener  held  the  door  of  his  hiding-place  open  with 
his  hand,  and  closely  watched  her  son.  Grip  — 
alive  to  everything  his  master  was  unconscious  of  — 
had  his  head  out  of  the  basket,  and,  in  return,  was 
watching  him  intently  with  his  glistening  eye, 

"  He  flaps  his  wings,"  said  Barnaby,  turning 
almost  quickly  enough  to  catch  the  retreating  form 
and  closing  door,  "  as  if  there  were  strangers  here ; 
but  Grip  is  wiser  than  to  fancy  that.    Jump  then !  " 

Accepting  this  invitation  with  a  dignity  peculiar 
to  himself,  the  bird  hopped  up  on  his  master's 
shoulder,  from  that  to  his  extended  hand,  and  so  to 
the  ground.  Barnaby  unstrapping  the  basket,  and 
putting  it  down  in  a  corner  with  the  lid  open.  Grip's 
first  care  was  to  shut  it  down  with  all  possible  de- 
spatch, and  then  to  stand  upon  it.  Believing,  no 
doubt,  that  he  had  now  rendered  it  utterly  impossible, 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  197 

and  beyond  the  power  of  mortal  man,  to  shut  him 
up  in  it  any  more,  he  drew  a  great  many  corks  in 
triumph,  and  uttered  a  corresponding  number  of 
hurrahs. 

"  Mother !  "  said  Barnaby,  laying  aside  his  hat  and 
stick,  and  returning  to  the  chair  from  which  he  had 
risen,  "  I'll  tell  you  where  we  have  been  to-day,  and 
what  we  have  been  doing,  —  shall  I  ?  " 

She  took  his  hand  in  hers,  and  holding  it,  nodded 
the  word  she  could  not  speak. 

"  You  mustn't  tell,"  said  Barnaby,  holding  up  his 
finger,  "iov  it's  a  secret,  mind,  and  only  known  to 
me,  and  Grip,  and  Hugh.  We  had  the  dog  with  us, 
but  he's  not  like  Grip,  clever  as  he  is,  and  doesn't 
guess  it  yet,  I'll  wager.  —  Why  do  you  look  behind 
me  so?" 

"  Did  I  ?  "  she  answered  faintly.  "  I  didn't  know 
I  did.     Come  nearer  me." 

"  You  are  frightened ! "  said  Barnaby,  changing 
color.     "Mother  —  you  don't  see  —  " 

"  See  what  ?  " 

*'  There's  —  there's  none  of  this  about,  is  there  ?  " 
he  answered  in  a  whisper,  drawing  closer  to  her, 
and  clasping  the  mark  upon  his  wrist.  "  I  am 
afraid  there  is,  somewhere.  You  make  my  hair 
stand  on  end,  and  my  flesh  creep.  Why  do  you 
look  like  that  ?  Is  it  in  the  room  as  I  have  seen  it 
in  my  dreams,  dashing  the  ceiling  and  the  walls  with 
red  ?     Tell  me.     Is  it  ?  " 

He  fell  into  a  shivering  fit  as  he  put  the  question, 
and  shutting  out  the  light  with  his  hands,  sat 
shaking  in  every  limb  until  it  had  passed  away. 
After  a  time  he  raised  his  head  and  looked  about 
him. 


198  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

« Is  it  gone  ?  " 

"There  has  been  nothing  here,"  rejoined  his 
mother,  soothing  him.  "Nothing  indeed,  dear  Bar- 
naby.  Look !  You  see  that  there  are  but  you 
and  me." 

He  gazed  at  her  vacantly,  and,  becoming  re-assured 
by  degrees,  burst  into  a  wild  laugh. 

"  But  let  us  see,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "  Were 
we  talking  ?  Was  it  you  and  me  ?  Where  have  we 
been  ?  " 

"  Nowhere  but  here." 

"  Ay,  but  Hugh,  and  I,"  said  Barnaby,  —  "  that's 
it.  Maypole  Hugh,  and  I,  you  know,  and  Grip  — 
we  have  been  lying  in  the  forest,  and  among  the 
trees  by  the  roadside,  with  a  dark-lantern  after 
night  came  on,  and  the  dog  in  a  uoose  ready  to  slip 
him  when  the  man  came  by." 

"  What  man  ?  " 

"  The  robber ;  him  that  the  stars  winked  at.  We 
have  waited  for  him  after  dark  these  many  nights, 
and  we  shall  have  him.  I'd  know  him  in  a  thou- 
sand.   Mother,  see  here !    This  is  the  man.     Look ! " 

He  twisted  his  handkerchief  round  his  head, 
pulled  his  hat  upon  his  brow,  wrapped  his  coat 
about  him,  and  stood  up  before  her :  so  like  the 
original  he  counterfeited,  that  the  dark  figure 
peering  out  behind  him  might  have  passed  for  his 
own  shadow. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  We  shall  have  him,"  he  cried, 
ridding  himself  of  the  semblance  as  hastily  as  he 
had  assumed  it.  "  You  shall  see  him,  mother,  bound 
hand  and  foot,  and  brought  to  London  at  a  saddle- 
girth  ;  and  you  shall  hear  of  him  at  Tyburn  Tree  if 
we  have  luck.     So  Hugh  says.     You're  pale  again, 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  199 

and  trembling.  And  why  do  you  look  behind  me 
so?" 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  not  quite 
well.     Go  you  to  bed,  dear,  and  leave  me  here." 

"  To  bed  !  "  he  answered.  ''  I  don't  like  bed.  I 
like  to  lie  before  the  fire,  watching  the  prospects  in 
the  burning  coals  —  the  rivers,  hills,  and  dells, 
in  the  deep,  red  sunset,  and  the  wild  faces.  I  am 
hungry,  too,  and  Grip  has  eaten  nothing  since 
broad  noon.  Let  us  to  supper.  Grip  !  To  supper, 
lad ! " 

The  raven  flapped  his  wings,  and,  croaking  his 
satisfaction,  hopped  to  the  feet  of  his  master,  and 
there  held  his  bill  open,  ready  for  snapping  up  such 
lumps  of  meat  as  he  should  throw  him.  Of  these 
he  received  about  a  score  in  rapid  succession  without 
the  smallest  discomposure. 

"That's  all,"  said  Barnaby. 

"  More  !  "  cried  Grip.     "  More  ! " 

But  it  appearing  for  a  certainty  that  no  more  was 
to  be  had,  he  retreated  with  his  store ;  and  disgor- 
ging the  morsels  one  by  one  from  his  pouch,  hid 
them  in  various  corners  —  taking  particular  care, 
however,  to  avoid  the  closet,  as  being  doubtful  of 
the  hidden  man's  propensities  and  power  of  resist- 
ing temptation.  When  he  had  concluded  these 
arrangements,  he  took  a  turn  or  two  across  the  room 
with  an  elaborate  assumption  of  having  nothing  on 
his  mind  (but  with  one  eye  hard  upon  his  treasure 
all  the  time),  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  began  to 
drag  it  out  piece  by  piece,  and  eat  it  with  the  utmost 
relish. 

Barnaby,  for  his  part,  having  pressed  his  mother  to 
eat  in  vain,  made  a  hearty  supper  too.     Once,  during 


200  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

the  progress  of  his  meal,  he  wanted  more  bread 
from  the  closet,  and  rose  to  get  it.  She  hurriedly 
interposed  to  prevent  hira,  and  summoning  her 
utmost  fortitude,  passed  into  the  recess,  and  brought 
it  out  herself. 

''  Mother,"  said  Barnaby,  looking  at  her  stead- 
fastly as  she  sat  down  beside  him,  after  doing  so ; 
"  is  to-day  my  birthday  ?  " 

"  To-day  !  "  she  answered.  "  Don't  you  recollect 
it  was  but  a  week  or  so  ago,  and  that  summer, 
autumn,  and  winter  have  to  pass  before  it  comes 
again  ?  " 

"  I  remember  that  it  has  been  so  till  now,"  said 
Barnaby.  "  But  I  think  to-day  must  be  my  birthday 
too,  for  all  that." 

She  asked  him  why.  "  I'll  tell  you  why,"  he  said. 
**  I  have  always  seen  you  —  I  didn't  let  you  know  it, 
but  I  have  —  on  the  evening  of  that  day  grow  very 
sad.  I  have  seen  you  cry  when  Grip  and  I  were 
most  glad ;  and  look  frightened  with  no  reason  ;  and 
I  have  touched  your  hand,  and  felt  that  it  was  cold 
—  as  it  is  now.  Once,  mother  (on  a  birthday  that 
was,  also).  Grip  and  I  thought  of  this  after  we  went 
upstairs  to  bed,  and  when  it  was  midnight,  striking 
one  o'clock,  we  came  down  to  your  door  to  see  if  you 
were  well.  You  were  on  your  knees.  I  forget  what 
it  was  you  said.  Grip,  what  was  it  we  heard  her 
say  that  night  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  devil !  "  rejoined  the  raven  promptly. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Barnaby.  "  But  you  said  some- 
thing in  a  prayer ;  and  when  you  rose  and  walked 
about,  you  looked  (as  you  have  done  ever  since, 
mother,  towards  night  on  my  birthday)  just  as  you 
do  now.     I  have  found  that  out,  you  see,  though  I 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  201 

am  silly.  So  I  say  you're  wrong  ;  and  this  must  be 
my  birthday  —  my  birthday,  Grip  !  " 

The  bird  received  this  information  with  a  crow  of 
such  duration  as  a  cock,  gifted  with  intelligence 
beyond  all  others  of  his  kind,  might  usher  in  the 
longest  day  with.  Then,  as  if  he  had  well  consid- 
ered the  sentiment,  and  regarded  it  as  apposite  to 
birthdays,  he  cried,  "  Never  say  die  ! "  a  great  many 
times,  and  flapped  his  wings  for  emphasis. 

The  widow  tried  to  make  light  of  Barnaby's 
remark,  and  endeavored  to  divert  his  attention  to 
some  new  subject ;  too  easy  a  task  at  all  times,  as 
she  knew.  His  supper  done,  Barnaby,  regardless  of 
her  entreaties,  stretched  himself  on  the  mat  before 
the  fire  ;  Grip  perched  upon  his  leg,  and  divided  his 
time  between  dozing  in  the  grateful  warmth,  and 
endeavoring  (as  it  presently  appeared)  to  recall  a 
new  accomplishment  he  had  been  studying  all 
day. 

A  long  and  profound  silence  ensued,  broken  only 
by  some  change  of  position  on  the  part  of  Barnaby, 
whose  eyes  were  still  wide  open  and  intently  fixed 
upon  the  fire ;  or  by  an  effort  of  recollection  on  the 
part  of  Grip,  who  would  cry  in  a  low  voice  from 
time  to  time,  "Polly  put  the  ket  — "  and  there 
stop  short,  forgetting  the  remainder,  and  go  off  in 
a  doze  again. 

After  a  long  interval,  Barnaby's  breathing  grew 
more  deep  and  regular,  and  his  eyes  were  closed. 
But  even  then  the  unquiet  spirit  of  the  raven  inter- 
posed. "  Polly  put  the  ket  —  "  cried  Grip,  and  his 
master  was  broad  awake  again. 

At  length  Barnaby  slept  soundly ;  and  the  bird, 
with  his  bill  sunk  upon  his  breast,  his  breast  itself 


202  BAKNABY   RUDGE. 

puffed  out  into  a  comfortable  alderman-like  form, 
and  his  bright  eye  growing  smaller  and  smaller, 
really  seemed  to  be  subsiding  into  a  state  of  repose. 
Now  and  then  he  muttered  in  a  sepulchral  voice, 
"  Polly  put  the  ket  — "  but  very  drowsily,  and 
more  like  a  drunken  man  than  a  reflecting  raven. 

The  widow,  scarcely  venturing  to  breathe,  rose 
from  her  seat.  The  man  glided  from  the  closet  and 
extinguished  the  candle. 

"  —  tie  on,"  cried  Grip,  suddenly  struck  with  an 
idea,  and  very  much  excited.  "  —  tie  on.  Hurrah  ! 
Polly  put  the  ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea ;  Polly 
put  the  ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea.  Hurrah,  hur- 
rah, hurrah  !  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  ket-tle 
on,  Keep  up  your  spirits,  Never  say  die.  Bow,  wow, 
wow,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  ket-tle,  I'm  a  —  Polly  put 
the  ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea." 

They  stood  rooted  to  the  ground,  as  though  it  had 
been  a  voice  from  the  grave. 

But  even  this  failed  to  awaken  the  sleeper.  He 
turned  over  towards  the  fire,  his  arm  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  his  head  drooped  heavily  upon  it.  The 
widow  and  her  unwelcome  visitor  gazed  at  him  and 
at  each  other  for  a  moment,  and  then  she  motioned 
him  towards  the  door. 

"Stay,"   he   whispered.      "You   teach  your   son 

well." 

"  I  have  taught  him  nothing  that  you  heard  to- 
night.    Depart  instantly,  or  I  will  rouse  him." 

"  You  are  free  to  do  so.     Shall  /  rouse  him  ?  " 

"  You  dare  not  do  that." 

"I  dare  do  anything,  I  have  told  you.  He 
knows  me  well,  it  seems.  At  least  I  will  know 
him." 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  203 

"  Would  you  kill  him  in  his  sleep  ?  "  cried  the 
widow,  throwing  herself  between  them, 

"  Woman,"  he  returned  between  his  teeth,  as  he 
motioned  her  aside,  "  I  would  see  him  nearer,  and  I 
will.  If  you  want  one  of  us  to  kill  the  other,  wake 
him." 

With  that  he  advanced,  and  bending  down  over 
the  prostrate  form,  softly  turned  back  the  head  and 
looked  into  the  face.  The  light  of  the  fire  was 
upon  it,  and  its  every  lineament  was  revealed  dis- 
tinctly. He  contemplated  it  for  a  brief  space,  and 
hastily  uprose. 

"  Observe,"  he  whispered  in  the  widow's  ear. 
*'  In  him,  of  whose  existence  I  was  ignorant  until 
to-night,  I  have  you  in  my  power.  Be  careful  how 
you  use  me.  Be  careful  how  you  use  me.  I  am 
destitute  and  starving,  and  a  wanderer  upon  the 
earth.     I  may  take  a  sure  and  slow  revenge." 

"  There  is  some  dreadful  meaning  in  your  words. 
I  do  not  fathom  it." 

"There  is  a  meaning  in  them,  and  I  see  you 
fathom  it  to  its  very  depth.  You  have  anticipated 
it  for  years  ;  you  have  told  me  as  much.  I  leave 
you  to  digest  it.     Do  not  forget  my  warning." 

He  pointed,  as  he  left  her,  to  the  slumbering  form, 
and  stealthily  withdrawing,  made  his  way  into  the 
street.  She  fell  on  her  knees  beside  the  sleeper, 
and  remained  like  one  stricken  into  stone,  until  the 
tears  which  fear  had  frozen  so  long  came  tenderly 
to  her  relief. 

"O  Thou,"  she  cried,  "who  hast  taught  me  such 
deep  love  for  this  one  remnant  of  the  promise  of  a 
happy  life,  out  of  whose  affliction  even  perhaps  the 
comfort  springs  that  he  is   ever  a  relying,  loving 


204  BABNABY  BUDGE. 

child  to  me  —  never  growing  old  or  cold  at  heart, 
but  needing  my  care  and  duty  in  his  manly  strength 
as  in  his  cradle-time  —  help  him,  in  his  darkened 
walk  through  this  sad  Avorld,  or  he  is  doomed,  and 
my  poor  heart  is  broken  !  " 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Gliding  along  the  silent  streets,  and  holding  his 
course  where  they  were  darkest  and  most  gloomy, 
the  man  who  had  left  the  widow's  house  crossed 
London  Bridge,  and  arriving  in  the  City,  plunged 
into  the  back-ways,  lanes,  and  courts  between  Corn- 
hill  and  Smithlield ;  with  no  more  fixedness  of  pur- 
pose than  to  lose  himself  among  their  windings, 
and  baffle  pursuit,  if  any  one  were  dogging  his 
-steps. 

It  was  the  dead  time  of  the  night,  and  all  was 
quiet.  Now  and  then  a  drowsy  watchman's  foot- 
steps sounded  on  the  pavement,  or  the  lamplighter 
on  his  rounds  went  flashing  past,  leaving  behind  a 
little  track  of  smoke  mingled  with  glowing  morsels 
of  his  hot  red  link.  He  hid  himself  even  from 
these  partakers  of  his  lonely  walk,  and  shrinking 
in  some  arch  or  doorway  while  they  passed,  issued 
forth  again  when  they  were  gone,  and  so  pursued 
his  solitary  way. 

To  be  shelterless  and  alone  in  the  open  country, 
hearing  the  wind  moan,  and  watching  for  day 
through  the  whole  long  weary  night ;  to  listen  to 
the  falling  rain,  and  crouch  for  warmth  beneath  the 
lee  of  some  old  barn  or  rick,  or  in  the  hollow  of  a 
tree ;  are  dismal  things  —  but  not  so  dismal  as  the 
205 


206  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

wandering  up  and  down  where  shelter  is,  and  beds 
and  sleepers  are  by  thousands,  a  houseless  rejected 
creature.  To  pace  the  echoing  stones  from  hour  to 
hour,  counting  the  dull  chimes  of  the  clocks  ;  to 
watch  the  lights  twinkling  in  chamber  windows,  to 
think  what  happy  forgetfulness  each  house  shuts 
in ;  that  here  are  children  coiled  together  in  their 
beds,  here  youth,  here  age,  here  poverty,  here 
wealth,  all  equal  in  their  sleep,  and  all  at  rest ;  to 
have  nothing  in  common  with  the  slumbering 
world  around,  not  even  sleep.  Heaven's  gift  to  all 
its  creatures,  and  be  akin  to  nothing  but  despair ; 
to  feel,  by  the  wretched  contrast  with  everything 
on  every  hand,  more  utterly  alone  and  cast  away 
than  m  a  trackless  desert ;  this  Is  a  kind  of 
suffering  on  which  the  rivers  of  great  cities  close 
full  many  a  time,  and  which  the  solitude  in  crowds 
alone  awakens. 

The  miserable  man  paced  up  and  down  the  streets 
—  so  long,  so  wearisome,  so  like  each  other  —  and 
often  cast  a  wistful  look  towards  the  east,  hoping 
to  see  the  first  faint  streaks  of  day.  But  obdurate 
night  had  yet  possession  of  the  sky,  and  his  dis- 
turbed and  restless  walk  found  no  relief. 

One  house  in  a  back  street  was  bright  with  the 
cheerful  glare  of  lights ;  there  was  the  sound  of 
music  in  it,  too,  and  the  tread  of  dancers,  and  there 
were  cheerful  voices,  and  many  a  burst  of  laughter. 
To  this  place  —  to  be  near  something  that  was 
awake  and  glad — he  returned  again  and  again;  and 
more  than  one  of  those  who  left  it  when  the  merri- 
ment was  at  its  height,  felt  it  a  check  upon  their 
mirthful  mood  to  see  him  flitting  to  and  fro  like  an 
uneasy  ghost.     At  last  the  guests  departed  one  and 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  207 

all;  and  then  the  house  was  close  shut  up,  and 
became  as  dull  and  silent  as  the  rest. 

His  wanderings  brought  him  at  one  time  to  the 
City  jail.  Instead  of  hastening  from  it  as  a  place 
of  ill  omen,  and  one  he  had  cause  to  shun,  he  sat 
down  on  some  steps  hard  by,  and  resting  his  chin 
upon  his  hand,  gazed  upon  its  rough  and  frowning 
walls  as  though  even  they  became  a  refuge  in  his 
jaded  eyes.  He  paced  it  round  and  round,  came 
back  to  the  same  spot,  and  sat  down  again.  He  did 
this  often,  and  once,  with  a  hasty  movement, 
crossed  to  where  some  men  were  watching  in  the 
prison  lodge,  and  had  his  foot  upon  the  steps  as 
though  determined  to  accost  them.  But  looking 
round,  he  saw  that  the  day  began  to  break,  and  fail- 
ing in  his  purpose,  turned  and  fled. 

He  was  soon  in  the  quarter  he  had  lately  trav- 
ersed, and  pacing  to  and  fro  again  as  he  had  done 
before.  He  was  passing  down  a  mean  street,  when 
from  an  alley  close  at  hand  some  shouts  of  revelry 
arose,  and  there  came  straggling  forth  a  dozen  mad- 
caps, whooping  and  calling  to  each  other,  who,  pass- 
ing noisily,  took  different  ways  and  dispersed  in 
smaller  groups. 

Hoping  that  some  low  place  of  entertainment 
which  would  afford  him  a  safe  refuge  might  be  near 
at  hand,  he  turned  into  this  court  when  they  were 
all  gone,  and  looked  about  for  a  half-opened  door,  or 
lighted  window,  or  other  indication  of  the  place 
whence  they  had  come.  It  was  so  profoundly  dark, 
however,  and  so  ill-favored,  that  he  concluded  they 
had  but  turned  up  there,  missing  their  way,  and 
were  pouring  out  again  when  he  observed  them. 
With   this   impression,  and   finding   there  was   no 


208  BAEXABY  KUDGE. 

outlet  but  that  by  which  he  had  entered,  he  was 
about  to  turn,  when  from  a  grating  near  his  feet  a 
sudden  stream  of  light  appeared,  and  the  sound  of 
talking  came.  He  retreated  into  a  doorway  to  see 
who  these  talkers  were,  and  to  listen  to  them. 

The  light  came  to  the  level  of  the  pavement  as  he 
did  this,  and  a  man  ascended,  bearing  in  his  hand 
a  torch.  This  figure  unlocked  and  held  open  the 
grating  as  for  the  passage  of  another,  who  presently 
appeared,  in  the  form  of  a  young  man  of  small 
stature  and  uncommon  self-importance,  dressed  in 
an  obsolete  and  verj^  gaudy  fashion. 

'*'  Good-night,  noble  captain,''  said  he  with  the 
torch.  "Farewell,  commander.  Good  luck,  illus- 
trious general  I "' 

In  return  to  these  compliments  the  other  bade 
him  hold  his  tongue,  and  keep  his  noise  to  himself ; 
and  laid  upon  him  many  similar  injunctions  with 
great  fluency  of  speech  and  sternness  of  manner. 

'•  Commend  me,  captain,  to  the  stricken  Miggs," 
returned  the  torch-bearer  in  a  lower  voice.  "  ^Ij 
captain  flies  at  higher  game  than  Miggses.  Ha.  ha, 
ha  !  My  captain  is  an  eagle,  both  as  respects  his 
eye  and  soaring  wings.  My  captain  breaketh  hearts 
as  other  bachelors  break  eggs  at  breakfast."' 

"  What  a  fool  you  are,  Stagg  !  "  said  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit,  stepping  on  the  pavement  of  the  court,  and 
brushing  from  his  legs  the  dust  he  had  contracted 
in  his  passage  upward. 

"  His  precious  limbs  !  "  cried  Stagg,  clasping  one 
of  his  ankles.  "  Shall  a  Miggs  aspire  to  these  pro- 
portions ?  Xo,  no,  my  captain.  We  will  inveigle 
ladies  fair,  and  wed  them  in  our  secret  cavern.  We 
will  unite  ourselves  with  blooming  beauties,  cap- 
tain." 


BARN-ABY  RUDGE.  209 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  my  buck,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit, 
releasing  his  leg;  "I'll  trouble  you  not  to  take 
liberties,  and  not  to  broach  certain  questions  unless 
certain  questions  are  broached  to  you.  Speak  when 
you're  spoke  to  on  particular  subjects,  and  not 
otherways.  Hold  the  torch  up  till  I've  got  to  the 
end  of  the  court,  and  then  kennel  yourself,  do  you 
hear  ?  " 

"  I  hear  you,  noble  captain." 

"  Obey,  then,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  haughtily. 
"  Gentlemen,  lead  on !  "  With  which  word  of  com- 
mand (addressed  to  an  imaginary  staff  or  retinue) 
he  folded  his  arms,  and  walked  with  surpassing 
dignity  down  the  court. 

His  obsequious  follower  stood  holding  the  torch 
above  his  head,  and  then  the  observer  saw  for  the 
first  time,  from  his  place  of  concealment,  that  he  was 
blind.  Some  involuntary  motion  on  his  part  caught 
the  quick  ear  of  the  blind  man,  before  he  was  con- 
scious of  having  moved  an  inch  towards  him,  for  he 
turned  suddenly  and  cried,  "  Who's  there  ?  " 

"  A  man,"  said  the  other,  advancing.     "  A  friend ! " 

*'  A  stranger ! "  rejoined  the  blind  man.  "  Strangers 
are  not  my  friends.     What  do  you  do  there  ?  " 

"  I  saw  your  company  come  out,  and  waited  here 
till  they  were  gone  !     I  want  a  lodging." 

"  A  lodging  at  this  time  ! "  returned  Stagg,  point- 
ing towards  the  dawn  as  though  he  saw  it.  "  Do 
you  know  the  day  is  breaking  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  rejoined  the  other,  "  to  my  cost.  I 
have  been  traversing  this  iron-hearted  town  all 
night." 

"You  had  better  traverse  it  again,"  said  the 
blind   man,  preparing   to   descend,    "  till  you   find 

VOL.  I.-14. 


210  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

some  lodgings  suitable  to  your  taste.  I  don't  let 
any." 

"  Stay  ! "  cried  the  other,  holding  him  by  the 
arm. 

"I'll  beat  this  light  about  that  hangdog  face  of 
yours  (for  hangdog  it  is,  if  it  answers  to  your  voice), 
and  rouse  the  neighborhood  besides,  if  you  detain 
me,"  said  the  blind  man.  "Let  me  go.  Do  you 
hear  ?  " 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  "  returned  the  other,  chinking  a 
few  shillings  together,  and  hurriedly  pressing  them 
into  his  hand.  "  I  beg  nothing  of  you.  I  will  pay 
for  the  shelter  you  give  me.  Death!  Is  it  much 
to  ask  of  such  as  you  ?  I  have  come  from  the 
country,  and  desire  to  rest  where  there  are  none 
to  question  me.  I  am  faint,  exhausted,  worn  out, 
almost  dead.  Let  me  lie  down,  like  a  dog,  before 
your  fire.  I  ask  no  more  than  that.  If  you  would 
be  rid  of  me,  I  will  depart  to-morrow." 

"If  a  gentleman  has  been  unfortunate  on  the 
road,"  muttered  Stagg,  yielding  to  the  other,  who, 
pressing  on  him,  had  already  gained  a  footing  on 
the  steps  —  "and  can  pay  for  his  accommoda- 
tion—" 

"  I  will  pay  you  with  all  I  have.  I  am  just  now 
past  the  want  of  food,  God  knows,  and  wish  but  to 
purchase  shelter.  What  companions  have  you  be- 
low ?  " 

"  None." 

"  Then  fasten  your  grate  there,  and  show  me  the 
way.     Quick." 

The  blind  man  complied  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion, and  they  descended  together.  The  dialogue 
had  passed  as  hurriedly  as   the  words   could  be 


BARNABY   KUDGE.  211 

spoken,  and  they  stood  in  his  wretched  room  before 
he  had  had  time  to  recover  from  his  first  surprise. 

"  May  I  see  where  tliat  door  leads  to,  and  what  is 
beyond  ? "  said  the  man,  glancing  keenly  round. 
"  You  will  not  mind  that  ?  " 

"  I  will  show  you  myself.  Follow  me,  or  go  be- 
fore.    Take  your  choice." 

He  bade  liim  lead  the  way,  and,  by  tlie  light  of 
the  torch  which  his  conductor  held  up  for  the  pur- 
pose, inspected  all  three  cellars  narrowly.  Assured 
that  the  blind  man  had  spoken  truth,  and  that  he 
lived  there  alone,  the  visitor  returned  with  him  to 
the  first,  in  which  a  fire  was  burning,  and  flung  him- 
self with  a  deep  groan  upon  the  ground  before  it. 

His  host  pursued  his  usual  occupation  without 
seeming  to  heed  him  any  further.  But  directly  he 
fell  asleep  —  and  he  noted  his  falling  into  a  slumber 
as  readily  as  the  keenest-sighted  man  could  have 
done  —  he  knelt  down  beside  him,  and  passed  his 
hand  lightly  but  carefully  over  his  face  and  person. 

His  sleep  was  checkered  with  starts  and  moans, 
and  sometimes  with  a  muttered  word  or  two.  His 
hands  were  clenched,  his  brow  bent,  and  his  mouth 
firmly  set.  All  this  the  blind  man  accurately 
marked ;  and  as  if  his  curiosity  were  strongly 
awakened,  and  he  had  alreatly  some  inkling  of  his 
mystery,  he  sat  watching  him,  if  the  expression  may 
be  used,  and  listening  until  it  was  broad  day. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Dolly  Varden's  pretty  little  liead  was  yet  bewil- 
dered by  various  recollections  of  the  party,  and  her 
bright  eyes  were  yet  dazzled  by  a  crowd  of  images, 
dancing  before  them  like  motes  in  the  sunbeams, 
among  which  the  effigy  of  one  partner  in  particular 
did  especially  figure,  the  same  being  a  young  coach- 
maker  (a  master  in  his  own  right),  who  had  given 
her  to  understand,  when  he  handed  her  into  the 
chair  at  parting,  that  it  was  his  fixed  resolve  to 
neglect  his  business  from  that  time,  and  die  slowly 
for  the  love  of  her  —  Dolly's  head,  and  eyes,  and 
thoughts,  and  seven  senses,  were  all  in  a  state  of 
flutter  and  confusion  for  which  the  party  was  ac- 
countable, although  it  was  now  three  days  old,  when, 
as  she  was  sitting  listlessly  at  breakfast,  reading  all 
manner  of  fortunes  (that  is  to  say,  of  married  and 
flourishing  fortunes)  in  the  grounds  of  her  teacup,  a 
step  was  heard  in  the  workshop,  and  Mr.  Edward 
Chester  was  descried  through  the  glass  door,  stand- 
ing among  the  rusty  locks  and  keys,  like  love  among 
the  roses  —  for  which  apt  comparison  the  historian 
may  by  no  means  take  any  credit  to  himself,  the 
same  being  the  invention,  in  the  sentimental  mood, 
of  tlie  chaste  and  modest  Miggs,  who,  beholding 
him  from  the  door-steps  she  was  then  cleaning,  did, 
212 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  213 

in  her  maiden  meditation,  give  utterance  to  the 
simile. 

The  locksmith,  who  happened  at  the  moment  to 
have  his  eyes  thrown  upward  and  his  head  back- 
ward in  an  intense  communing  with  Toby,  did  not 
see  his  visitor,  until  Mrs.  Varden,  more  watchful 
than  the  rest,  had  desired  Sim  Tappertit  to  open  the 
glass  door  and  give  him  admission  —  from  which 
untoward  circumstance  the  good  lady  argued  (for 
she  could  deduce  a  precious  moral  from  the  most 
trifling  event)  that  to  take  a  draught  of  small  ale  in 
the  morning  was  to  observe  a  pernicious,  irreligious, 
and  Pagan  custom,  the  relish  whereof  should  be  left 
to  swine  and  Satan,  or  at  least  to  Popish  persons, 
and  should  be  shunned  by  the  righteous  as  a  work 
of  sin  and  evil.  She  would  no  doubt  have  pursued 
her  admonition  much  farther,  and  would  have 
founded  on  it  a  long  list  of  precious  precepts  of 
inestimable  value,  but  that  the  young  gentleman 
standing  by  in  a  somewhat  uncomfortable  and  dis- 
comfited manner  while  she  read  her  spouse  this 
lecture,  occasioned  her  to  bring  it  to  a  premature 
conclusion. 

"  I'm  sure  you'll  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Var- 
den, rising  and  curtsying.  "Varden  is  so  very 
thoughtless,  and  needs  so  much  reminding —  Sim, 
bring  a  chair  here." 

Mr.  Tappertit  obeyed,  with  a  flourish  implying 
that  he  did  so  under  protest. 

"  And  you  can  go,  Sim,"  said  the  locksmith. 

Mr.  Tappertit  obeyed  again,  still  under  protest; 
and  betaking  himself  to  the  workshop,  began  seri- 
ously to  fear  that  he  might  find  it  necessary  to 
poison  his  master  before  his  time  was  out. 


214  BAKNABY  BUDGE. 

In  the  mean  time,  Edward  returned  suitable 
replies  to  INIrs.  Varden's  courtesies,  and  that  lady 
brightened  up  very  much ;  so  that  when  he  accepted 
a  dish  of  tea  from  the  fair  hands  of  Dolly,  she  was 
perfectly  agreeable. 

"I  am  sure  if  there's  anything  we  can  do, — 
Varden  or  I,  or  Dolly  either,  —  to  serve  you,  sir,  at 
any  time,  you  have  only  to  say  it,  and  it  shall  be 
done,''  said  Mrs.  V. 

*'  I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  I  am  sure,"  returned 
Edward.  **  You  encourage  me  to  say  that  I  have 
come  here  now  to  beg  your  good  offices." 

]VIrs.  Varden  was  delighted  beyond  measure. 

"  It  occurred  to  me  that  probably  your  fair  daugh- 
ter might  be  going  to  the  Warren  either  to-day  or 
to-morrow,"  said  Edward,  glancing  at  Dolly ;  "  and 
if  so,  and  you  will  allow  her  to  take  charge  of  this 
letter,  ma'am,  you  will  oblige  me  more  than  I  can 
tell  you.  The  truth  is,  that  while  I  am  very  anxious 
it  should  reach  its  destination,  I  have  particular 
reasons  for  not  trusting  it  to  any  other  conveyance  ; 
so  that,  without  your  help,  I  am  wholly  at  a  loss." 

"  She  was  not  going  that  way,  sir,  either  to-day  or 
to-morrow,  nor  indeed  all  next  week,"  the  lady  gra- 
ciously rejoined,  "  but  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  put 
ourselves  out  of  the  way  on  your  account,  and  if 
you  wish  it,  you  may  depend  upon  its  going  to-day. 
You  might  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  frowning  at 
her  husband,  "  from  Varden's  sitting  there  so  glum 
and  silent,  that  he  objected  to  this  arrangement; 
but  you  must  not  mind  that,  sir,  if  you  please.  It's 
his  way  at  home.  Out  of  doors  he  can  be  cheerful 
and  talkative  enough." 

Now,  the  fact  was  that  the  unfortunate  locksmith, 


BAENABY  RtDGE,  215 

blessing  his  stars  to  find  his  helpmate  in  such  good 
humor,  had  been  sitting  with  a  beaming  face,  hear- 
ing this  discourse  with  a  joy  past  all  expression. 
Wherefore  this  sudden  attack  quite  took  him  by- 
surprise. 

"■  My  dear  Martha  —  "  he  said. 

"Oh  yes,  I  dare  say,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Varden 
with  a  smile  of  mingled  scorn  and  pleasantry. 
"  Very  dear !     We  all  know  that." 

"No,  but,  my  good  soul,"  said  Gabriel,  "you  are 
quite  mistaken.  You  are  indeed.  I  was  delighted 
to  find  you  so  kind  and  ready.  I  waited,  my  dear, 
anxiously,  I  assure  you,  to  hear  what  you  would 
say." 

"  You  waited  anxiously,"  repeated  Mrs.  V.  "  Yes  ! 
Thank  you,  Varden.  \"ou  waited,  as  you  always  do, 
that  I  might  bear  the  blame,  if  any  came  of  it. 
But  I  am  used  to  it,"  said  the  lady  with  a  kind  of 
solemn  titter,  "and  that's  my  comfort." 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  Martha  —  "  said  Gabriel. 

"  Let  me  give  you  my  word,  my  dear,"  interposed 
his  wife  with  a  Christian  smile,  "  that  such  discus- 
sions as  these  between  married  people  are  much 
better  left  alone.  Therefore,  if  you  please,  Varden, 
we'll  drop  the  subject.  I  have  no  wish  to  pursue 
it.  I  could.  I  might  say  a  great  deal.  But  I 
would  rather  not.     Pray  don't  say  any  more." 

"I  don't  want  to  say  any  more,"  rejoined  the 
goaded  locksmith. 

"  Well,  then,  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Varden. 

"  Nor  did  I  begin  it,  Martha,"  added  the  lock- 
smith good-humoredly,  "I  must  say  that." 

"  You  did  not  begin  it,  Varden ! "  exclaimed  his 
wife,  opening  her  eyes  very  wide,  and  looking  round 


216  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

upon  the  company,  as  though  she  tvouIcI  say,  You 
hear  this  man!  "You  did  not  begin  it,  Varden! 
But  you  shall  not  say  I  was  out  of  temper.  No, 
you  did  not  begin  it,  oh  dear  no,  not  you,  my  dear ! " 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  locksmith.  "  That's  set- 
tled then." 

"  Oh  yes,"  rejoined  his  wife,  "  quite.  If  you  like 
to  say  Dolly  began  it,  my  dear,  I  shall  not  contra- 
dict you.  I  know  my  duty.  I  need  know  it,  I  am 
sure.  I  am  often  obliged  to  bear  it  in  mind,  when 
my  inclination  perhaps  would  be  for  the  moment  to 
forget  it.  Thank  you,  Varden."  And  so,  with  a 
mighty  show  of  humility  and  forgiveness,  she  folded 
her  hands,  and  looked  round  again,  with  a  smile 
which  plainly  said,  "  If  you  desire  to  see  the  first 
and  foremost  among  female  martyrs,  here  she  is  on 
view  !  " 

This  little  incident,  illustrative  though  it  was  of 
Mrs.  Varden's  extraordinary  sweetness  and  amiabil- 
ity, had  so  strong  a  tendency  to  check  the  conversa- 
tion and  to  disconcert  all  parties  but  that  excellent 
lady,  that  only  a  few  monosyllables  were  uttered 
until  Edward  withdrew;  which  he  presently  did, 
thanking  the  lady  of  the  house  a  great  many  times 
for  her  condescension,  and  whispering  in  Dolly's  ear 
that  he  would  call  on  the  morrow,  in  case  there 
should  happen  to  be  an  answer  to  the  note  —  which, 
indeed,  she  knew  without  his  telling,  as  Barnaby 
and  his  friend  Grip  had  dropped  in  on  the  previous 
night  to  prepare  her  for  the  visit  which  was  then 
terminating. 

Gabriel,  who  had  attended  Edward  to  the  door, 
came  back  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  ;  and,  after 
fidgeting  about  the  room  in  a  very  uneasy  manner, 


BAKKABY  BUDGE.  217 

and  casting  a  great  many  sidelong  looks  at  Mrs. 
Varden  (who  with  the  calmest  countenance  in  the 
world  was  five  fathoms  deep  in  the  Protestant  Man- 
ual), inquired  of  Dolly  how  she  meant  to  go.  Dolly 
supposed  by  the  stage-coach,  and  looked  at  her  lady 
mother,  who,  finding  herself  silently  appealed  to, 
dived  down  at  least  another  fathom  into  the  Manual, 
and  became  unconscious  of  all  earthly  things. 

"Martha  —  "  said  the  locksmith. 

"  I  hear  you,  Varden,"  said  his  wife,  without 
rising  to  the  surface. 

"1  am  sorry,  my  dear,  you  have  such  an  objection 
to  the  Maypole  and  old  John,  for  otherways  as  it's 
a  very  fine  morning,  and  Saturday's  not  a  busy  day 
with  us,  we  might  have  all  three  gone  to  Chigwell 
in  the  chaise,  and  had  quite  a  happy  day  of  it." 

Mrs.  Varden  immediately  closed  the  Manual,  and 
bursting  into  tears,  requested  to  be  led  upstairs. 

"What  is  the  matter  now,  Martha?"  inquired 
the  locksmith. 

To  which  Martha  rejoined,  "  Oh !  don't  speak  to 
me,"  and  protested  in  agony  that  if  anybody  had 
told  her  so,  she  wouldn't  have  believed  it. 

"But,  Martha,"  said  Gabriel,  putting  himself  in 
the  way  as  she  was  moving  off  with  the  aid  of 
Dolly's  shoulder,  "wouldn't  have  believed  what? 
Tell  me  what's  wrong  now.  Do  tell  me.  Upon  my 
soul  I  don't  know.  Do  yoii  know,  child  ?  Damme  !  " 
cried  the  locksmith,  plucking  at  his  wig  in  a  kind 
of  frenzy,  "  nobody  does  know,  I  verily  believe,  but 
Miggs ! " 

"Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Varden  faintly,  and  with 
symptoms  of  approaching  incoherence,  "  is  attached 
to  me,  and  that  is  sufficient  to  draw  down  hatred 


218  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

upon  her  in  this  house.  She  is  a  comfort  to  me, 
whatever  she  may  be  to  others." 

"She's  no  comfort  to  me,"  cried  Gabriel,  made 
bold  by  despair.  "  She  is  the  misery  of  my  life. 
She's  all  the  plagues  of  Egypt  in  one." 

"  She's  considered  so,  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Mrs. 
Varden.  "  I  was  prepared  for  that ;  it's  natural ; 
it's  of  a  piece  with  the  rest.  When  you  taunt  me  as 
you  do  to  my  face,  how  can  I  wonder  that  yc  u  ^aunt 
her  behind  her  back  ?  "  And  here  the  incoherence 
coming  on  very  strong,  Mrs.  Varden  wept,  and 
laughed,  and  sobbed,  and  shivered,  and  hiccoughed, 
and  choked ;  and  said  she  knew  it  was  very  foolish, 
but  she  couldn't  help  it ;  and  that  when  she  was 
dead  and  gone,  perhaps  they  would  be  sorry  for  it 
—  which  really,  under  the  circumstances,  did  not 
appear  quite  so  probable  as  she  seemed  to  think  — 
with  a  great  deal  more  to  the  same  effect.  In  a 
word,  she  passed  with  great  decency  through  all  the 
ceremonies  incidental  to  such  occasions  ;  and  being 
supported  upstairs,  was  deposited  in  a  highly  spas- 
modic state  on  her  own  bed,  where  Miss  Miggs 
shortly  afterwards  flung  herself  upon  the  body. 

The  philosophy  of  all  this  was,  that  Mrs.  Varden 
wanted  to  go  to  Chigwell ;  that  she  did  not  want  to 
make  any  concession  or  explanation ;  that  she 
would  only  go  on  being  implored  and  entreated  so 
to  do ;  and  that  she  would  accept  no  other  terms. 
Accordingly,  after  a  vast  amount  of  moaning  and 
crying  upstairs,  and  much  damping  of  foreheads, 
and  vinegaring  of  temples,  and  hartshorning  of 
noses,  and  so  forth ;  and  after  the  most  pathetic 
adjurations  from  Miggs,  assisted  by  warm  brandy 
and  water  not  over-weak,  and  divers  other  cordials, 


BARNABY   KUDGE.  219 

also  of  a  stimulating  quality,  administered  at  first 
in  tea-spoonfuls  and  afterwards  in  increasing  doses, 
and  of  which  Miss  Miggs  herself  partook  as  a  pre- 
ventive measure  (for  fainticg  is  infectious)  ;  after 
all  these  remedies,  and  many  more  too  numerous  to 
mention,  but  not  to  take,  had  been  applied ;  and 
many  verbal  consolations,  moral,  religious,  and  mis- 
cellaneous, had  been  superadded  thereto  ;  the  lock- 
smith humbled  himself,  and  the  end  was  gained. 

'•  If  it's  only  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  quietness, 
father,"  said  Dolly,  urging  him  to  go  upstairs. 

"Oh,  Doll,  Doll,"  said  her  good-natured  father; 
"  if  you  ever  have  a  husband  of  your  own  —  " 

Dolly  glanced  at  the  glass. 

"Well,  ivhen  you  have,"  said  the  locksmith, 
"  never  faint,  my  darling.  More  domestic  unhappi- 
ness  has  come  of  easy  fainting,  Doll,  than  from  all 
the  greater  passions  put  together.  Eemember  that, 
my  dear,  if  you  would  be  really  happy,  which  you 
never  can  be  if  your  husband  isn't.  And  a  word  in 
your  ear,  my  precious.  Never  have  a  Miggs  about 
you ! " 

With  this  advice  he  kissed  his  blooming  daughter 
on  the  cheek,  and  slowly  repaired  to  Mrs.  Varden's 
room ;  where  that  lady,  lying  all  pale  and  languid 
on  her  couch,  was  refreshing  herself  with  a  sight  of 
her  last  new  bonnet,  which  Miggs,  as  a  means  of 
calming  her  scattered  spirits,  displayed  to  the  best 
advantage  at  her  bedside. 

"  Here's  master,  mim,"  said  Miggs.  "Oh,  what  a 
happiness  it  is  when  man  and  wife  come  round 
again!  Oh  gracious,  to  think  that  him  and  her 
should  ever  have  a  word  together ! "  In  the  energy 
of  these  sentiments,  which  were  uttered  as  an  apos- 


220  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

trophe  to  the  Heavens  in  general,  Miss  Miggs 
perched  the  bonnet  on  the  top  of  her  own  head,  and 
folding  her  hands,  turned  on  her  tears. 

"I  can't  help  it,"  cried  Miggs.  "I  couldn't,  if  I 
was  to  be  drownded  in  'em.  She  has  such  a  forgiv- 
ing spirit !  She'll  forget  all  that  has  passed,  and  go 
along  with  you,  sir.  Oh,  if  it  was  to  the  world's 
end,  she'd  go  along  with  you." 

Mrs.  Varden  with  a  faint  smile  gently  reproved 
her  attendant  for  this  enthusiasm,  and  reminded 
her,  at  the  same  time,  that  she  was  far  too  unwell  to 
venture  out  that  day. 

"  Oh  no,  you're  not,  mim,  indeed  you're  not,"  said 
Miggs.  "  I  repeal  to  master  ;  master  knows  you're 
not,  mim.  The  hair,  and  motion  of  the  shay,  will 
do  you  good,  mim,  and  you  must  not  give  way,  you 
must  not  raly.  She  must  keep  up,  mustn't  she,  sir, 
for  all  our  sakes  ?  I  was  a  telling  her  that  just 
now.  She  must  remember  us,  even  if  she  forgets 
herself.  Master  will  persuade  you,  mim,  I'm  sure. 
There's  Miss  Dolly's  a-going,  you  know,  and  master, 
and  you,  and  all  so  happy  and  so  comfortable.  Oh !  " 
cried  Miggs,  turning  on  the  tears  again,  previous  to 
quitting  the  room  in  great  emotion,  "I  never  see 
such  a  blessed  one  as  she  is  for  the  forgiveness  of 
her  spirit,  I  never,  never,  never  did.  Nor  more  did 
master  neither ;  no,  nor  no  one  —  never ! " 

For  five  minutes,  or  thereabouts,  Mrs.  Varden  re- 
mained mildly  opposed  to  all  her  husband's  prayers 
that  she  would  oblige  him  by  taking  a  day's  pleas- 
ure, but  relenting  at  length,  she  suffered  herself  to 
be  persuaded,  and  granting  him  her  free  forgiveness 
(the  merit  whereof,  she  meekly  said,  rested  with  the 
Manual,  and  not  with  her),  desired  that  Miggs  might 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  221 

come  and  help  her  dress.  The  handmaid  attended 
promptly,  and  it  is  but  justice  to  their  joint  exer- 
tions to  record  that,  when  the  good  lady  came  down- 
stairs in  course  of  time,  completely  decked  out  for 
the  journey,  she  really  looked  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  and  appeared  in  the  very  best  health  im- 
aginable. 

As  to  Dolly,  there  she  was  again,  the  very  pink 
and  pattern  of  good  looks,  in  a  smart  little  cherry- 
colored  mantle  with  a  hood  of  the  same  drawn  over 
her  head,  and,  upon  the  top  of  that  hood,  a  little  straw 
hat  trimmed  with  cherry-colored  ribbons,  and  worn 
the  merest  trifle  on  one  side  —  just  enough,  in  short, 
to  make  it  the  wickedest  and  most  provoking  head- 
dress that  ever  malicious  milliner  devised.  And  not 
to  speak  of  the  manner  in  which  these  cherry -colored 
decorations  brightened  her  eyes,  or  vied  with  her 
lips,  or  shed  a  new  bloom  on  her  face,  she  wore  such 
a  cruel  little  muff,  and  such  a  heartrending  pair  of 
shoes,  and  was  so  surrounded  and  hemmed  in,  as  it 
were,  by  aggravations  of  all  kinds,  that  when  Mr. 
Tappertit,  holding  the  horse's  head,  saw  her  come 
out  of  the  house  alone,  such  impulses  came  over  him 
to  decoy  her  into  the  chaise  and  drive  off  like  mad, 
that  he  would  unquestionably  have  done  it,  but  for 
certain  uneasy  doubts  besetting  him  as  to  the  short- 
est way  to  Gretna  Green ;  whether  it  was  up  the 
street  or  dow^n,  or  up  the  right-hand  turning  or  the 
left;  and  whether,  supposing  all  the  turnpikes  to 
be  carried  by  storm,  the  blacksmith  in  the  end  would 
marry  them  on  credit ;  which,  by  reason  of  his  cler- 
ical office,  appeared,  even  to  his  excited  imagina- 
tion, so  unlikely,  that  he  hesitated.  And  while  he 
stood  hesitating,  and  looking  post-chaises-and-six  at 


222  BAKNABY  RUDGE. 

Dolly,  out  came  his  master  and  his  mistress,  and 
the  constant  Miggs,  and  the  opportunity  was  gone 
forever.  For  now  the  chaise  creaked  upon  its 
springs,  and  Mrs.  Varden  was  inside ;  and  now  it 
creaked  again,  and  more  than  ever,  and  the  lock- 
smith was  inside ;  and  now  it  bounded  once,  as  if  its 
heart  beat  lightly,  and  Dolly  was  inside ;  and  now 
it  was  gone,  and  its  place  was  empty,  and  he  and 
that  dreary  Miggs  were  standing  in  the  street 
together. 

The  hearty  locksmith  was  in  as  good  a  humor  as 
if  nothing  had  occurred  for  the  last  twelve  months 
to  put  him  out  of  his  way,  Dolly  was  all  smiles  and 
graces,  and  Mrs.  Varden  was  agreeable  beyond  all 
precedent.  As  they  jogged  through  the  streets 
talking  of  this  thing  and  of  that,  who  should  be 
descried  upon  the  pavement  but  that  very  coach- 
maker,  looking  so  genteel  that  nobody  would  have 
believed  he  had  ever  had  anything  to  do  with  a 
coach  but  riding  in  it,  and  bowing  like  any  noble- 
man. To  be  sure  Dolly  was  confused  when  she 
bowed  again,  and  to  be  sure  the  cherry-colored  rib- 
bons trembled  a  little  when  she  met  his  mournful 
eye,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  I  have  kept  my  word,  I 
have  begun,  the  business  is  going  to  the  devil,  and 
you  are  the  cause  of  it."  There  he  stood,  rooted  to 
the  ground :  as  Dolly  said,  like  a  statue ;  and,  as 
Mrs.  Varden  said,  like  a  pump :  till  they  turned  the 
corner :  and  when  her  father  thought  it  was  like  his 
impudence,  and  her  mother  wondered  what  he  meant 
by  it,  Dolly  blushed  again  till  her  very  hood  was 
pale. 

But  on  they  went,  not  the  less  merrily  for  this, 
and  there  was  the  locksmith,  in  the  incautious  ful- 


BARNABY  RTJDGE.  223 

ness  of  his  heart,  "pulling  up"  at  all  manner  of 
places,  and  evincing  a  most  intimate  acquaintance 
with  all  the  taverns  on  the  road,  and  all  the  land- 
lords and  all  the  landladies,  with  whom,  indeed,  the 
little  horse  was  on  equally  friendly  terms,  for  he 
kept  on  stopping  of  his  own  accord.  Never  were 
people  so  glad  to  see  other  people  as  these  landlords 
and  landladies  were  to  behold  Mr.  Varden  and  Mrs. 
Varden  and  Miss  Varden ;  and  wouldn't  they  get 
out,  said  one  ;  and  they  really  must  walk  upstairs, 
said  another ;  and  she  would  take  it  ill,  and  be  quite 
certain  they  were  proud,  if  they  wouldn't  have  a 
little  taste  of  something,  said  a  third;  and  so  on, 
that  it  really  was  quite  a  Progress  rather  than  a 
ride,  and  one  continued  scene  of  hospitality  from 
beginning  to  end.  It  was  pleasant  enough  to  be 
held  in  such  esteem,  not  to  mention  the  refresh- 
ments ;  so  Mrs.  Varden  said  nothing  at  the  time, 
and  was  all  affability  and  delight ;  but  such  a  body 
of  evidence  as  she  collected  against  the  unfortunate 
locksmith  that  day,  to  be  used  thereafter  as  occasion 
might  require,  never  was  got  together  for  matrimo- 
nial purposes. 

In  course  of  time  —  and  in  course  of  a  pretty 
long  time  too,  for  these  agreeable  interruptions 
delayed  them  not  a  little  —  they  arrived  upon  the 
skirts  of  the  Forest,  and  riding  pleasantly  on  among 
the  trees,  came  at  last  to  the  Maypole,  where  the 
locksmith's  cheerful  "  Yoho  !  "  speedily  brought  to 
the  porch  old  John,  and  after  him  young  Joe,  both 
of  whom  were  so  transfixed  at  sight  of  the  ladies, 
that  for  a  moment  they  were  perfectly  unable  to 
give  them  any  welcome,  and  could  do  nothing  but 
stare. 


224  BARNABY  EUDGB. 

It  was  only  for  a  moment,  however,  that  Joe  for- 
got himself,  for,  speedily  reviving,  he  thrust  his 
drowsy  father  aside  —  to  Mr.  Willet's  mighty  and 
inexpressible  indignation  —  and  darting  out,  stood 
ready  to  help  them  to  alight.  It  was  necessary  for 
Dolly  to  get  out  first.  Joe  had  her  in  his  arms  ;  — 
yes,  though  for  a  space  of  time  no  longer  than  you 
could  count  one  in,  Joe  had  her  in  his  arms.  Here 
was  a  glimpse  of  happiness  ! 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  what  a  flat  and 
commonplace  affair  the  helping  Mrs.  Varden  out 
afterwards  was,  but  Joe  did  it,  and  did  it  too  with 
the  best  grace  in  the  world.  Then  old  John,  who, 
entertaining  a  dvill  and  foggy  sort  of  idea  that  Mrs. 
Varden  wasn't  fond  of  him,  had  been  in  some  doubt 
whether  she  might  not  have  come  for  purposes  of 
assault  and  battery,  took  courage,  hoped  she  was 
well,  and  offered  to  conduct  her  into  the  house. 
This  tender  being  amicably  received,  they  marched 
in  together;  Joe  and  Dolly  followed  arm  in  arm 
(happiness  again  !),  and  Varden  brought  up  the  rear. 

Old  John  would  have  it  that  they  must  sit  in  the 
bar,  and  nobody  objecting,  into  the  bar  they  went. 
All  bars  are  snug  places,  but  the  Maypole's  was  the 
very  snuggest,  cosiest,  and  completest  bar  that  ever 
the  wit  of  man  devised.  Such  amazing  bottles  in 
old  oaken  pigeon-holes ;  such  gleaming  tankards 
dangling  from  pegs  at  about  the  same  inclination  as 
thirsty  men  would  hold  them  to  their  lips ;  such 
sturdy  little  Dutch  kegs  ranged  in  rows  on  shelves ; 
so  many  lemons  hanging  in  separate  nets,  and  form- 
ing the  fragrant  grove  already  mentioned  in  this 
chronicle,  suggestive,  with  goodly  loaves  of  snowy 
sugar  stowed  away,  hard  by,  of  punch,  idealized 


BAENABY  RUDGE.  225 

beyond  all  mortal  knowledge;  such  closets,  such 
presses,  such  drawers  full  of  pipes,  such  places  for 
putting  things  away  in  hollow  window-seats,  all 
crammed  to  the  throat  with  eatables,  drinkables,  or 
savory  condiments;  lastly,  and  to  crown  all,  as 
typical  of  the  immense  resources  of  the  establish- 
ment, and  its  defiances  to  all  visitors  to  cut  and  come 
again,  such  a  stupendous  cheese  ! 

It  is  a  poor  heart  that  never  rejoices  —  it  must 
have  been  the  poorest,  weakest,  and  most  watery 
heart  that  ever  beat,  which  would  not  have  warmed 
towards  the  Maypole  bar.  Mrs.  Varden's  did 
directly.  She  could  no  more  have  reproached  John 
Willet  among  those  household  gods,  the  kegs  and 
bottles,  lemons,  pipes,  and  cheese,  than  she  could 
have  stabbed  him  with  his  own  bright  carving-knife. 
The  order  for  dinner,  too  —  it  might  have  soothed  a 
savage.  "A  bit  of  fish,"  said  John  to  the  cook, 
"and  some  lamb  chops  (breaded,  with  plenty  of 
ketchup),  and  a  good  salad,  and  a  roast  spring 
chicken,  with  a  dish  of  sausages  and  mashed  pota- 
toes, or  something  of  that  sort."  Something  of  that 
sort !  The  resources  of  these  inns  !  To  talk  care- 
lessly about  dishes,  which  in  themselves  were  a  first- 
rate  holiday  kind  of  dinner,  suitable  to  one's  wedding 
day,  as  something  of  that  sort :  meaning,  if  you 
can't  get  a  spring  chicken,  any  other  trifle  in  the 
way  of  poultry  will  do  —  such  as  a  peacock,  per- 
haps !  The  kitchen,  too,  with  its  great  broad  cav- 
ernous chimney  ;  the  kitchen,  where  nothing  in  the 
way  of  cookery  seemed  impossible  ;  where  you  could 
believe  in  anything  to  eat  they  chose  to  tell  you  of. 
Mrs.  Varden  returned  from  the  contemplation  of 
these  wonders  to  the  bar  again,  with  a  head  quite 

VOL.  I.-15. 


226  BABNABY  KUDGE. 

dizzy  and  bewildered.  Her  housekeeping  capacity 
was  not  large  enough  to  comprehend  them.  She 
was  obliged  to  go  to  sleep.  Waking  was  pain  in  the 
midst  of  such  immensity. 

Dolly  in  the  mean  while,  whose  gay  heart  and 
head  ran  upon  other  matters,  passed  out  at  the 
garden  door,  and  glancing  back  now  and  then  (but 
of  course  not  wondering  whether  Joe  saw  her), 
tripped  away  by  a  path  across  the  fields  with  which 
she  was  well  acquainted,  to  discharge  her  mission  at 
the  Warren ;  and  this  deponent  hath  been  informed, 
and  verily  believes,  that  you  might  have  seen  many 
less  pleasant  objects  than  the  cherry-colored  mantle 
and  ribbons  as  they  went  fluttering  along  the  green 
meadows  in  the  bright  light  of  the  day,  like  giddy 
things  as  they  were. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

The  proud  consciousness  of  her  trust,  and  the 
great  importance  she  derived  from  it,  might  have 
advertised  it  to  all  the  house  if  she  had  had  to  run 
the  gantlet  of  its  inhabitants ;  but  as  Dolly  had 
played  in  every  dull  room  and  passage  many  and 
many  a  time  when  a  child,  and  had  ever  since  been 
the  humble  friend  of  Miss  Haredale,  whose  foster- 
sister  she  was,  she  was  as  free  of  the  building  as  the 
young  lady  herself.  So,  using  no  greater  precaution 
than  holding  her  breath  and  walking  on  tiptoe  as 
she  passed  the  library  door,  she  went  straight  to 
Emma's  room  as  a  privileged  visitor. 

It  was  the  liveliest  room  in  the  building.  The 
chamber  was  sombre,  like  the  rest  for  the  matter  of 
that,  but  the  presence  of  youth  and  beauty  would 
make  a  prison  cheerful  (saving,  alas!  that  confine- 
ment withers  them),  and  lend  some  charms  of  their 
own  to  the  gloomiest  scene.  Birds,  flowers,  books, 
drawing,  music,  and  a  hundred  such  graceful  tokens 
of  feminine  loves  and  cares,  filled  it  with  more  of 
life  and  human  sympathy  than  the  whole  house 
besides  seemed  made  to  hold.  There  was  heart  in 
the  room ;  and  who  that  has  a  heart  ever  fails  to 
recognize  the  silent  presence  of  another  ? 

Dolly  had  one  undoubtedly,  and  it  was  not  a 
227 


228  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

tough  one  either,  though  there  was  a  little  mist  of 
coquettishness  about  it,  such  as  sometimes  surrounds 
that  sun  of  life  in  its  morning,  and  slightly  dims  its 
lustre.  Thus,  when  Emma  rose  to  greet  her,  and, 
kissing  her  affectionately  on  the  cheek,  told  her,  in 
her  (juiet  way,  that  she  had  been  very  unhappy,  the 
tears  stood  in  Dolly's  eyes,  and  she  felt  more  sorry 
than  she  could  tell ;  but  next  moment  she  happened 
to  raise  them  to  the  glass,  and  really  there  was 
something  there  so  exceedi;jgly  agreeable,  that,  as 
she  sighed,  she  smiled,  and  felt  surprisingly  con- 
soled, 

"  I  have  heard  about  it,  miss,"  said  Dolly,  "  and 
it's  very  sad  indeed,  but  when  things  are  at  the 
worst  they  are  sure  to  mend." 

"  But  are  you  sure  they  are  at  the  worst  ?  "  asked 
Emma  with  a  smile. 

"Why,  I  don't  see  how  they  can  very  well  be 
more  unpromising  than  they  are ;  I  really  don't," 
said  Dolly.  "  And  I  bring  something  to  begin 
with." 

"  Not  from  Edward  ?  " 

Dolly  nodded  and  smiled,  and  feeling  in  her 
pockets  (there  were  pockets  in  those  days)  with 
an  affectation  of  not  being  able  to  find  what  she 
wanted,  which  greatly  enhanced  her  importance,  at 
length  produced  the  letter.  As  Emma  hastily  broke 
the  seal  and  became  absorbed  in  its  contents,  Dolly's 
eyes,  by  one  of  those  strange  accidents  for  which 
there  is  no  accounting,  wandered  to  the  glass  again. 
She  could  not  help  wondering  whether  the  coach- 
maker  suffered  very  much,  and  quite  pitied  the  poor 
man. 

It  was  a  long  letter  —  a  very  long  letter,  written 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  229 

close  on  all  four  sides  of  the  sheet  of  paper,  and 
crossed  afterwards ;  but  it  was  not  a  consolatory- 
letter,  for,  as  Emma  read  it,  she  stopped  from  time 
to  time  to  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes.  To  be 
sure  Dolly  marvelled  greatly  to  see  her  in  so  much 
distress,  for,  to  her  thinking,  a  love  affair  ought  to 
be  one  of  the  best  jokes,  and  the  slyest,  merriest 
kind  of  thing  in  life.  But  she  set  it  down  in  her 
own  mind  that  all  this  came  from  Miss  Haredale's 
being  so  constant,  and  that  if  she  Avould  only  take 
on  with  some  other  young  gentleman  —  just  in  the 
most  innocent  way  possible,  to  keep  her  first  lover 
up  to  the  mark  —  she  would  find  herself  inexpres- 
sibly comforted. 

"  I  am  sure  that's  what  I  should  do  if  it  was  me," 
thought  Dolly.  "  To  make  one's  sweethearts  miser- 
able is  well  enough,  and  quite  right,  but  to  be  made 
miserable  one's  self  is  a  little  too  much  !  " 

However,  it  wouldn't  do  to  say  so,  and  therefore 
she  sat  looking  on  in  silence.  She  needed  a  pretty 
considerable  stretch  of  patience,  for  when  the  long 
letter  had  been  read  once  all  through  it  was  read 
again,  and  when  it  had  been  read  twice  all  through 
it  was  read  again.  During  this  tedious  process, 
Dolly  beguiled  the  time  in  the  most  improving 
manner  that  occurred  to  her,  by  curling  her  hair 
on  her  fingers,  with  the  aid  of  the  looking-glass 
before  mentioned,  and  giving  it  some  killing  twists. 

Everything  has  an  end.  Even  young  ladies  in 
love  cannot  read  their  letters  forever.  In  course 
of  time  the  packet  was  folded  up,  and  it  only 
remained  to  write  the  answer. 

But,  as  this  promised  to  be  a  work  of  time  like- 
wise, Emma  said  she  would  put  it  off  until  after 


230  BAENABY  ETJDGE. 

dinner,  and  that  Dolly  must  dine  witli  her.  As 
Dolly  had  made"  up  her  mind  to  do  so  beforehand, 
she  required  very  little  pressing;  and  when  they 
had  settled  this  point,  they  went  to  walk  in  the 
garden. 

They  strolled  up  and  down  the  terrace  walks, 
talking  incessantly  —  at  least,  Dolly  never  left  off 
once  —  and  making  that  quarter  of  the  sad  and 
mournful  house  quite  gay.  Not  that  they  talked 
loudly  or  laughed  much,  but  they  were  both  so 
very  handsome,  and  it  was  such  a  breezy  day,  and 
their  light  dresses  and  dark  curls  appeared  so  free 
and  joyous  in  their  abandonment,  and  Emma  was  so 
fair,  and  Dolly  so  rosy,  and  Emma  so  delicately 
shaped,  and  Dolly  so  plump,  and  —  in  short,  there 
are  no  flowers  for  any  garden  like  such  flowers,  let 
horticulturists  say  what  they  may,  and  both  house 
and  garden  seemed  to  know  it,  and  to  brighten  up 
sensibly. 

After  this  came  the  dinner  and  the  letter-writing, 
and  some  more  talking,  in  course  of  which  Miss 
Haredale  took  occasion  to  charge  upon  Dolly  cer- 
tain flirtish  and  inconstant  propensities,  which  accu- 
sations Dolly  seemed  to  think  very  complimentary 
indeed,  and  to  be  mightily  amused  with.  Finding 
her  quite  incorrigible  in  this  respect,  Emma  suffered 
her  to  depart;  but  not  before  she  had  confided  to 
her  that  important  and  never-sufficiently-to-be-taken- 
care-of  answer,  and  endowed  her,  moreover,  with  a 
pretty  little  bracelet  as  a  keepsake.  Having  clasped 
it  on  her  arm,  and  again  advised  her,  half  in  jest  and 
half  in  earnest,  to  amend  her  roguish  ways,  for  she 
knew  she  was  fond  of  Joe  at  heart  (which  Dolly 
stoutly  denied,  with  a  great  many  haughty  protesta- 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  231 

tions  that  she  hoped  she  could  do  better  than  that, 
indeed !  and  so  forth),  she  bade  her  farewell ;  and 
after  calling  her  back  to  give  her  more  supplemen- 
tary messages  for  Edward  than  anybody  with  ten- 
fold the  gravity  of  Dolly  Varden  could  be  reasonably 
expected  to  remember,  at  length  dismissed  her. 

Dolly  bade  her  good-by,  and  tripping  lightly  down 
the  stairs,  arrived  at  the  dreaded  library  door,  and 
was  about  to  pass  it  again  on  tiptoe,  when  it  opened, 
and  behold !  there  stood  Mr.  Haredale.  Now,  Dolly 
had  from  her  childhood  associated  with  this  gentle- 
man the  idea  of  something  grim  and  ghostly,  and 
being  at  the  moment  conscience-stricken  besides, 
the  sight  of  him  threw  her  into  such  a  flurry  that 
she  could  neither  acknowledge  his  presence  nor  run 
away,  so  she  gave  a  great  start,  and  then  with  down- 
cast eyes  stood  still  and  trembled. 

"  Come  here,  girl,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  taking  her 
by  the  hand.     "  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

"If  you  please,  sir,  I'm  in  a  hurry,"  faltered 
Dolly,  "  and  —  and  you  have  frightened  me  by  com- 
ing so  suddenly  upon  me,  sir,  —  I  would  rather  go, 
sir,  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to  let  me." 

"Immediately,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  who  had  by 
this  time  led  her  into  the  room  and  closed  the 
door.  "  You  shall  go  directly.  You  have  just  left 
Emma?" 

"Yes,  sir,  just  this  minute.  —  Father's  waiting 
for  me,  sir,  if  you'll  please  to  have  the  good- 
ness —  " 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  said  IVIr.  Haredale.  "  Answer 
me  a  question.     What  did  you  bring  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  Bring  here,  sir  ?  "  faltered  Dolly. 

"You  will  tell  me  the  truth,  I  am  sure.     Yes." 


232  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

Dolly  hesitated  for  a  little  while,  and,  somewhat 
emboldened  by  his  manner,  said  at  last,  "  Well  then, 
sir,  it  was  a  letter." 

"  From  jVIr.  Edward  Chester,  of  course.  And  you 
are  the  bearer  of  the  .answer  ?  " 

Dolly  hesitated  again,  and  not  being  able  to  decide 
upon  any  other  course  of  action,  burst  into  tears. 

"  You  alarm  yourself  without  cause,''  said  Mr. 
Haredale.  "  Why  are  you  so  foolish  ?  Surel}-  j'ou 
can  answer  me.  You  know  that  I  have  but  to  put 
the  question  to  Emma,  and  learn  the  truth  directly. 
Have  you  the  answer  with  you  ?  " 

Dolly  had  what  is  popularly  called  a  spirit  of  her 
own,  and,  being  now  fairly  at  bay,  made  the  best 
of  it. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  rejoined,  trembling  and  frightened 
as  she  was.  *'  Yes,  sir,  I  have.  You  may  kill  me  if 
you  please,  sir,  but  I  won't  give  it  up.  I'm  very 
sorry,  —  but  I  won't.     There,  sir." 

*'I  commend  your  firmness  and  j-our  plain  speak- 
ing," said  iNIr.  Haredale.  "  Rest  assured  that  I  have 
as  little  desire  to  take  your  letter  as  your  life.  You 
are  a  very  discreet  messenger  and  a  good  girl," 

Not  feeling  quite  certain,  as  she  afterwards  said, 
whether  he  might  not  be  "  coming  over  her "  with 
these  compliments,  Dolly  kept  as  far  from  him  as 
she  could,  cried  again,  and  resolved  to  defend  her 
pocket  (for  the  letter  was  there)  to  the  last  ex- 
tremity. 

"  I  have  some  design,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  after  a 
short  silence,  during  which  a  smile,  as  he  regarded 
her,  had  struggled  through  the  gloom  and  melan- 
choly that  was  natural  to  his  face,  "  of  providing  a 
companion  for  my  niece ;  for  her  life  is  a  very  lonely 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  233 

one.  Would  you  like  the  office  ?  You  are  the  old- 
est friend  she  has,  and  the  best  entitled  to  it." 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  answered  Dolly,  not  sure  but 
he  was  bantering  her  ;  "  I  can't  say.  I  don't  know 
what  they  might  wish  at  home.  I  couldn't  give  an 
opinion,  sir." 

"  If  your  friends  had  no  objection,  would  you  have 
any  ?  "  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "  Come.  There's  a  plain 
question,  and  easy  to  answer." 

"None  at  all  that  I  know  of,  sir,"  replied  Dolly. 
"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  be  near  Miss  Emma,  of 
course,  and  always  am." 

"  That's  well,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "  That  is  all 
I  had  to  say.  You  are  anxious  to  go.  Don't  let  me 
detain  you." 

Dolly  didn't  let  him,  nor  did  she  wait  for  him  to 
try,  for  the  words  had  no  sooner  passed  his  lips  than 
she  was  out  of  the  room,  out  of  the  house,  and  in 
the  fields  again. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done,  of  course,  when  she 
came  to  herself,  and  considered  what  a  flurry  she 
had  been  in,  was  to  cry  afresh ;  and  the  next  thing, 
when  she  reflected  how  well  she  had  got  over  it, 
was  to  laugh  heartily.  The  tears,  once  banished, 
gave  place  to  the  smiles,  and  at  last  Dolly  laughed 
so  much  that  she  was  fain  to  lean  against  a  tree, 
and  give  vent  to  her  exultation.  When  she  could 
laugh  no  longer,  and  was  quite  tired,  she  put  her 
head-dress  to  rights,  dried  her  eyes,  looked  back 
very  merrily  and  triumphantly  at  the  Warren  chim- 
neys, which  were  just  visible,  and  resumed  her 
walk. 

The  twilight  had  come  on,  and  it  was  quickly 
growing  dusk,  but  the  path  was  so  familiar  to  her 


234  BARNABY  RIJDGE. 

from  frequent  traversing  that  she  hardly  thought  of 
this,  and  certainly  felt  no  uneasiness  at  being  alone. 
Moreover,  there  was  the  bracelet  to  admire ;  and 
when  she  had  given  it  a  good  rub,  and  held  it  out 
at  arm's-length,  it  sparkled  and  glittered  so  beauti- 
fully on  her  wrist,  that  to  look  at  it  in  every  point 
of  view,  and  with  every  possible  turn  of  the  arm, 
was  quite  an  absorbing  business.  There  was  the 
letter,  too,  and  it  looked  so  mysterious  and  know- 
ing, when  she  took  it  out  of  her  pocket,  and  it  held, 
as  she  knew,  so  much  inside,  that  to  turn  it  over 
and  over,  and  think  about  it,  and  wonder  how  it 
began,  and  how  it  ended,  and  what  it  said  all 
through,  was  another  matter  of  constant  occupa- 
tion. Between  the  bracelet  and  the  letter,  there 
was  quite  enough  to  do  without  thinking  of  any- 
thing else ;  and  admiring  each  by  turns,  Dolly  went 
on  gayly. 

As  she  passed  through  a  wicket-gate  to  where  the 
path  was  narrow,  and  lay  between  two  hedges  gar- 
nished here  and  there  with  trees,  she  heard  a  rus- 
tling close  at  hand,  which  brought  her  to  a  sudden 
stop.  She  listened.  All  was  very  quiet,  and  she 
went  on  again — not  absolutely  frightened,  but  a 
little  quicker  than  before,  perhaps,  and  possibly  not 
quite  so  much  at  her  ease,  for  a  check  of  that  kind 
is  startling. 

She  had  no  sooner  moved  on  again  than  she  was 
conscious  of  the  same  sound,  which  was  like  that  of 
a  person  trampling  stealthily  among  bushes  and 
brushwood.  Looking  towards  the  spot  whence  it 
appeared  to  come,  she  almost  fancied  she  could 
make  out  a  crouching  figure.  She  stopped  again. 
All  was  quiet  as  before.     On  she  went  once  more  — 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  235 

decidedly  faster  now  —  and  tried  to  sing  softly  to 
herself.     It  must  be  the  wind. 

But  how  came  the  wind  to  blow  only  when  she 
walked,  and  cease  when  she  stood  still  ?  She 
stopped  involuntarily  as  she  made  the  reflection, 
and  the  rustling  noise  stopped  likewise.  She  was 
really  frightened  now,  and  was  yet  hesitating  what 
to  do,  when  the  bushes  crackled  and  snapped,  and  a 
man  came  plunging  through  them,  close  before  her. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

It  was  for  the  moment  an  inexpressible  relief  to 
Dolly  to  recognize  in  the  person  who  forced  himself 
into  the  path  so  abruptly,  and  now  stood  directly  in 
her  way,  Hugh  of  the  Maypole,  whose  name  she 
littered  in  a  tone  of  delighted  surprise  that  came 
from  her  heart. 

"  Was  it  you  ?  "  she  said.  "  How  glad  I  am  to 
see  you  !  and  how  could  you  terrify  me  so  ?  " 

In  answer  to  which  he  said  nothing  at  all,  but 
stood  quite  still,  looking  at  her. 

"  Did  you  come  to  meet  me  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

Hugh  nodded,  and  muttered  something  to  the 
effect  that  he  had  been  waiting  for  her,  and  had  ex- 
pected her  sooner. 

"  I  thought  it  likely  they  would  send,"  said  Dolly, 
greatly  re-assured  by  this. 

"Nobody  sent  me,"  was  the  sullen  answer.  "I 
came  of  my  own  accord." 

The  rough  bearing  of  this  fellow,  and  his  wild, 
uncouth  appearance,  had  often  filled  the  girl  with  a 
vague  apprehension,  even  when  other  people  were 
by,  and  had  occasioned  her  to  shrink  from  him  in- 
voluntarily. The  having  him  for  an  unbidden  com- 
panion in  so  solitary  a  place,  with  the  darkness  fast 
gathering  about  them,  renewed  and  even  increased 
the  alarm  she  had  felt  at  first. 
236 


r>A^7    ^, 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  237 

If  his  manner  had  been  merely  dogged  and  pas- 
sively fierce,  as  usual,  she  would  have  had  no 
greater  dislike  to  his  company  than  she  always  felt 
—  perhaps,  indeed,  would  have  been  rather  glad  to 
have  had  him  at  hand.  But  there  was  something  of 
coarse  bold  admiration  in  his  look,  which  terrified 
her  very  much.  She  glanced  timidly  towards  him, 
uncertain  whether  to  go  forward  or  retreat,  and  he 
stood  gazing  at  her  like  a  handsome  satyr;  and  so 
they  remained  for  some  short  time  without  stirring 
or  breaking  silence.  At  length  Dolly  took  courage, 
shot  past  him,  and  hurried  on, 

''Why  do  you  spend  so  much  breath  in  avoiding 
me  ?  "  said  Hugh,  accommodating  his  pace  to  hers, 
and  keeping  close  at  her  side. 

"  1  wish  to  get  back  as  quickly  as  I  can,  and  you 
walk  too  near  me,"  answered  Dolly. 

"  Too  near  ! "  said  Hugh,  stooping  over  her  so 
that  she  could  feel  his  breath  upon  her  forehead. 
''  Why  too  near  ?  You're  always  proud  to  me,  mis- 
tress." 

"  I  am  proud  to  no  one.  You  mistake  me,"  an- 
swered Dolly.  "Fall  back,  if  you  please,  or  go 
on." 

"Nay,  mistress,"  he  rejoined,  endeavoring  to 
draw  her  arm  through  his.     "  I'll  walk  with  you." 

She  released  herself,  and  clenching  her  little 
hand,  struck  him  with  right  good  will.  At  this 
IVIaypole  Hugh  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  and 
passing  his  arm  about  her  waist,  held  her  in  his 
strong  grasp  as  easily  as  if  she  had  been  a  bird. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Well  done,  mistress !  Strike 
again.  You  shall  beat  my  face,  and  tear  my  hair, 
and  pluck  my  beard  up  by  the  roots,  and  welcome, 


238  BAENABY  RIJDGE. 

for  the  sake  of  your  bright  eyes.  Strike  again, 
mistress.     Do.     Ha,  ha,  ha !     I  like  it." 

"  Let  me  go,"  she  cried,  endeavoring  with  both 
her  hands  to  push  him  off.  "  Let  me  go  this  mo- 
ment." 

"You  had  as  good  be  kinder  to  me,  Sweetlips," 
said  Hugh.  "  You  had,  indeed.  Come.  Tell  me 
now.  Why  are  you  always  so  proud  ?  I  don't 
quarrel  with  you  for  it.  I  love  you  when  you're 
proud.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  You  can't  hide  your  beauty 
from  a  poor  fellow ;  that's  a  comfort ! " 

She  gave  him  no  answer,  but,  as  he  had  not  yet 
cheeked  her  progress,  continued  to  press  forward  as 
rapidly  as  she  could.  At  length,  between  the  hurry 
she  had  made,  her  terror,  and  the  tightness  of  his 
embrace,  her  strength  failed  her,  and  she  could  go 
no  farther. 

"  Hugh,"  cried  the  panting  girl,  "  good  Hugh,  if 
you  will  leave  me  I  will  give  you  anything  —  every- 
thing I  have  —  and  never  tell  one  word  of  this  to 
any  living  creature." 

"  You  had  best  not,"  he  answered.  "  Harkye,  little 
dove,  you  had  best  not.  All  about  here  know  me, 
and  what  I  dare  do  if  I  have  a  mind.  If  ever  you 
are  going  to  tell,  stop  when  the  words  are  on  your 
lips,  and  think  of  the  mischief  you'll  bring,  if  you 
do,  upon  some  innocent  heads  that  you  wouldn't 
wish  to  hurt  a  hair  of.  Bring  trouble  on  me,  and 
I'll  bring  trouble  and  something  more  on  them  in 
return.  I  care  no  more  for  them  than  for  so  many 
dogs;  not  so  much — why  should  I?  I'd  sooner 
kill  a  man  than  a  dog  any  day.  I've  never  been 
sorry  for  a  man's  death  in  all  my  life,  and  I  have 
for  a  dog's." 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  239 

There  was  something  so  thoroughly  savage  in  the 
manner  of  these  expressions,  and  the  looks  and  ges- 
tures by  which  they  were  accompanied,  that  her 
great  fear  of  him  gave  her  new  strength,  and 
enabled  her  by  a  sudden  effort  to  extricate  herself 
and  run  fleetly  from  him.  But  Hugh  was  as  nim- 
ble, strong,  and  swift  of  foot  as  any  man  in  broad 
England,  and  it  was  but  a  fruitless  expenditure  of 
energy,  for  he  had  her  in  his  encircling  arms  again 
before  she  had  gone  a  hundred  yards. 

"Softly,  darling  —  gently.  Would  you  fly  from 
rough  Hugh,  that  loves  you  as  well  as  any  drawing- 
room  gallant  ?  " 

"I  would,"  she  answered,  struggling  to  free  her- 
self again.     "  I  will.     Help ! " 

"  A  fine  for  crying  out,"  said  Hugh.  "  Ha,  ha, 
ha !  A  fine,  pretty  one,  from  your  lips.  I  pay  my- 
self !     Ha,  ha,  ha ! " 

"  Help  !  help !  help ! "  As  she  shrieked  with  the 
utmost  violence  she  could  exert,  a  shout  was  heard 
in  answer,  and  another,  and  another. 

"  Thank  Heaven ! "  cried  the  girl  in  an  ecstasy. 
"  Joe,  dear  Joe,  this  way.     Help  !  " 

Her  assailant  paused,  and  stood  irresolute  for  a 
moment,  but  the  shouts  drawing  nearer  and  coming 
quick  upon  them,  forced  him  to  a  speedy  decision. 
He  released  her,  whispered  with  a  menacing  look, 
"  Tell  him :  and  see  what  follows  !  "  and  leaping  the 
hedge,  was  gone  in  an  instant.  Dolly  darted  otf, 
and  fairly  ran  into  Joe  Willet's  open  arms. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  are  you  hurt  ?  what  was  it  ? 
who  was  it  ?  where  is  he  ?  what  was  he  like  ?  "  with 
a  great  many  encouraging  expressions  and  assur- 
ances of  safety,  were  the  first  words  Joe  poured 


240  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

forth.  But  poor  little  Dolly  was  so  breathless  and 
terrified  that  for  some  time  she  was  quite  unable  to 
answer  him,  and  hung  upon  his  shoulder,  sobbing 
and  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

Joe  had  not  the  smallest  objection  to  have  her 
hanging  on  his  shoulder ;  no,  not  the  least,  though 
it  crushed  the  cherry-colored  ribbons  sadly,  and  put 
the  smart  little  hat  out  of  all  shape.  But  he 
couldn't  bear  to  see  her  cry ;  it  went  to  his  very 
heart.  He  tried  to  console  her,  bent  over  her,  whis- 
pered to  her  —  some  say  kissed  her,  but  that's  a 
fable.  At  any  rate,  he  said  all  the  kind  and  tender 
things  he  could  think  of,  and  Dolly  let  him  go  on 
and  didn't  interrupt  him  once,  and  it  was  a  good 
ten  minutes  before  she  was  able  to  raise  her  head 
and  thank  him, 

"  What  was  it  that  frightened  you  ?  "  said  Joe. 

A  man  whose  person  was  unknown  to  her  had 
followed  her,  she  answered ;  he  began  by  begging, 
and  went  on  to  threats  of  robbery,  which  he  was  on 
the  point  of  carrying  into  execution,  and  Avould 
have  executed,  but  for  Joe's  timely  aid.  The  hesi- 
tation and  confusion  with  which  she  said  this,  Joe 
attributed  to  the  fright  she  had  sustained,  and  no 
suspicion  of  the  truth  occurred  to  him  for  a  moment. 

"  Stop  when  the  words  are  on  your  lips,"  A  hun- 
dred times  that  night,  and  very  often  afterwards, 
when  the  disclosure  was  rising  to  her  tongue,  Dolly 
thought  of  that,  and  repressed  it.  A  deeply  rooted 
dread  of  the  man ;  the  conviction  that  his  ferocious 
nature,  once  roused,  would  stop  at  nothing ;  and  the 
strong  assurance  that  if  she  impeached  him,  the  full 
measure  of  his  wrath  and  vengeance  would  be 
wreaked  on  Joe,  who  had  preserved  her ;  these  were 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  241 

considerations  she  had  not  the  courage  to  overcome, 
and  inducements  to  secrecy  too  powerful  for  her  to 
surmount. 

Joe,  for  his  part,  was  a  great  deal  too  happy  to 
inquire  very  curiously  into  the  matter ;  and  Dolly 
being  yet  too  tremulous  to  walk  without  assistance, 
they  went  forward  very  slowly,  and  in  his  mind 
very  pleasantly,  until  the  Maypole  lights  were  near 
at  hand,  twinkling  their  cheerful  welcome,  when 
Dolly  stopped  suddenly,  and  with  a  half-scream 
exclaimed,  — 

"  The  letter ! " 

"  What  letter  ?  "  cried  Joe. 

"That  I  was  carrying  —  I  had  it  in  my  hand. 
My  bracelet,  too,"  she  said,  clasping  her  wrist.  "  I 
have  lost  them  both  ! " 

"  Do  you  mean  just  now  ?  "  said  Joe. 

"  Either  I  dropped  them  then,  or  they  were  taken 
from  me,"  answered  Dolly,  vainly  searching  her 
pocket  and  rustling  her  dress.  "  They  are  gone, 
both  gone.  What  an  unhappy  girl  I  am  ! "  With 
these  words  poor  Dolly,  who,  to  do  her  justice,  was 
quite  as  sorry  for  the  loss  of  the  letter  as  for  her 
bracelet,  fell  a  crying  again,  and  bemoaned  her  fate 
most  movingly. 

Joe  tried  to  comfort  her  with  the  assurance  that, 
directly  he  had  housed  her  safely  in  the  Maypole, 
he  would  return  to  the  spot  with  a  lantern  (for  it 
was  now  quite  dark),  and  make  strict  search  for  the 
missing  articles,  which  there  was  great  probability 
of  his  finding,  as  it  was  not  likely  that  anybody  had 
passed  that  way  since,  and  she  was  not  conscious  of 
their  having  been  forcibly  taken  from  her.  Dolly 
thanked  him  very  heartily  for  this  offer,  though 

VOL.  1.-16. 


242  BAENABY  RUDGE. 

with  no  great  hope  of  his  quest  being  successful; 
and  so,  with  many  lamentations  on  her  side,  and 
many  hopeful  words  on  his,  and  much  weakness  on 
the  part  of  Dolly,  and  much  tender  supporting  on 
the  part  of  Joe,  they  reached  the  Maypole  bar  at 
last,  where  the  locksmith  and  his  wife  and  old  John 
were  yet  keeping  high  festival. 

Mr.  Willet  received  the  intelligence  of  Dolly's 
trouble  with  that  surprising  presence  of  mind  and 
readiness  of  speech  for  which  he  was  so  eminently 
distinguished  above  all  other  men.  Mrs.  Varden 
expressed  her  sympathy  for  her  daughter's  distress 
by  scolding  her  roundly  for  being  so  late ;  and  the 
honest  locksmith  divided  himself  between  condoling 
with  and  kissing  Dolly,  and  shaking  hands  heartily 
with  Joe,  whom  he  could  not  sufficiently  praise  or 
thank. 

In  reference  to  this  latter  point,  old  John  was  far 
from  agreeing  with  his  friend ;  for,  besides  that  he 
by  no  means  approved  of  an  adventurous  spirit  in 
the  abstract,  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  his  son  and 
heir  had  been  seriously  damaged  in  a  scuffle,  the 
consequences  would  assuredly  have  been  expensive 
and  inconvenient,  and  might  perhaps  have  proved 
detrimental  to  the  Maypole  business.  Wherefore, 
and  because  he  looked  with  no  favorable  eye  upon 
young  girls,  but  rather  considered  that  they  and  the 
whole  female  sex  were  a  kind  of  nonsensical  mis- 
take on  the  ])art  of  Nature,  he  took  occasion  to 
retire  and  shake  his  head  in  private  at  the  boiler ; 
inspired  by  which  silent  oracle,  he  was  moved  to 
give  Joe  various  stealthy  nudges  with  his  elbow,  as 
a  parental  reproof  and  gentle  admonition  to  mind 
his  own  business,  and  not  make  a  fool  of  himself. 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  243 

Joe,  however,  took  down  the  lantern  and  lighted 
it ;  and  arming  himself  with  a  stout  stick,  asked 
whether  Hugh  was  in  the  stable. 

"He's  lying  asleep  before  the  kitchen  fire,  sir," 
said  Mr.  Willet.     "  What  do  you  want  him  for  ?  " 

"  I  want  him  to  come  with  me  to  look  after  this 
bracelet  and  letter,"  answered  Joe.  "  Halloa  there  ! 
Hugh ! " 

Dolly  turned  pale  as  death,  and  felt  as  if  she 
must  faint  forthwith.  After  a  few  moments,  Hugh 
came  staggering  in,  stretching  himself  and  yawning 
according  to  custom,  and  presenting  every  appear- 
ance of  having  been  roused  from  a  sound  nap. 

"  Here,  sleepy -head,''  said  Joe,  giving  him  the 
lantern.  "  Carry  this,  and  bring  the  dog,  and  that 
small  cudgel  of  yours.  And  woe  betide  the  fellow 
if  we  come  upon  him." 

"  What  fellow  ?  "  growled  Hugh,  rubbing  his  eyes 
and  shaking  himself. 

"  What  fellow  ? "  returned  Joe,  who  was  in  a 
state  of  great  valor  and  bustle  ;  "  a  fellow  you  ought 
to  know  of,  and  be  more  alive  about.  It's  well  for 
the  like  of  you,  lazy  giant  that  you  are,  to  be  snor- 
ing your  time  away  in  chimney-corners,  when  honest 
men's  daughters  can't  cross  even  our  quiet  meadows 
at  nightfall  without  being  set  upon  by  footpads,  and 
frightened  out  of  their  precious  lives." 

"  They  never  rob  me,"  cried  Hugh  with  a  laugh. 
"  I  have  got  nothing  to  lose.  But  I'd  as  lief  knock 
them  at  head  as  any  other  men.  How  many  are 
there  ?  " 

"Only  one,"  said  Dolly  faintly,  for  everybody 
looked  at  her. 

"And  what  was  he  like,  mistress  ?"  said  Hugh 


244  BAKNABY   BUDGE. 

with  a  glance  at  young  Willet,  so  slight  and  momen- 
tary that  the  soowl  it  conveyed  was  lost  on  all  but 
her.     "  About  my  height  ?  " 

"  IN'ot  —  not  so  tall,''  Dolly  replied,  scarce  know- 
ing what  she  said. 

"  His  dress,"  said  Hugh,  looking  at  her  keenly, 
"  like  —  like  any  of  ours  now  ?  I  know  all  the 
people  hereabouts,  and  maybe  could  give  a  guess  at 
the  man  if  I  had  anything  to  guide  me." 

Dolly  faltered  and  turned  paler  yet ;  then  answered 
that  he  was  wrapped  in  a  loose  coat,  and  had  his  face 
hidden  by  a  handkerchief,  and  that  she  could  give 
no  other  description  of  him. 

"  You  wouldn't  know  him  if  you  saw  him  then, 
belike  ?  "  said  Hugh  with  a  malicious  grin. 

"  I  should  not,"  answered  Dolly,  bursting  into 
tears  again.  "  I  don't  wish  to  see  him.  I  can't 
bear  to  think  of  him.  I  can't  talk  about  him  any 
more.  Don't  go  to  look  for  these  things,  Mr.  Joe, 
pray  don't.     I  entreat  you  not  to  go  with  that  man." 

"  Not  to  go  with  me  ! "  cried  Hugh.  "  I'm  too 
rough  for  them  all.  They're  all  afraid  of  me.  Why, 
bless  you,  mistress,  I've  the  tenderest  heart  alive. 
I  love  all  the  ladies,  ma'am,"  said  Hugh,  turning  to 
the  locksmith's  wife. 

Mrs.  Varden  opined  that  if  he  did,  he  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  himself ;  such  sentiments  being  more 
consistent  (so  she  argued)  with  a  benighted  Mussul- 
man or  wild  Islander  than  with  a  stanch  Protestant. 
Arguing  from  this  imperfect  state  of  his  morals, 
Mrs.  Varden  further  opined  that  he  had  never 
studied  the  Manual.  Hugh  admitting  that  he  never 
had,  and  moreover  that  he  couldn't  read,  Mrs.  Varden 
declared,  with  much  severity,  that  he  ought  to  be 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  245 

even  more  ashamed  of  himself  than  before,  and 
strongly  recommended  him  to  save  up  his  pocket 
money  for  the  purchase  of  one,  and  further,  to  teach 
himself  the  contents  with  all  convenient  diligence. 
She  was  still  pursuing  this  train  of  discourse,  when 
Hugh,  somewhat  unceremoniously  and  irreverently, 
followed  his  young  master  out,  and  left  her  to  edify 
the  rest  of  the  company.  This  she  proceeded  to  do, 
and  finding  that  Mr.  Willet's  03-68  were  fixed  upon 
her  with  an  appearance  of  deep  attention,  gradually 
addressed  the  whole  of  her  discourse  to  him,  whom 
she  entertained  with  a  moral 'and  theological  lecture 
of  considerable  length,  in  the  conviction  that  great 
workings  were  taking  place  in  his  spirit.  The  sim- 
ple truth  was,  however,  that  Mr.  Willet,  although 
his  eyes  were  wide  open,  and  he  saw  a  woman  before 
him  whose  head,  by  long  and  steady  looking  at, 
seemed  to  grow  bigger  and  bigger  until  it  filled  the 
whole  bar,  was  to  all  other  intents  and  purposes  fast 
asleep ;  and  so  sat  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets,  until  his  son's  return 
caused  him  to  wake  up  with  a  deep  sigh,  and  a  faint 
impression  that  he  had  been  dreaming  about  pickled 
pork  and  greens  —  a  vision  of  his  slumbers  which 
was  no  doubt  referable  to  the  circumstance  of  ]\[rs. 
Yarden's  having  frequently  pronounced  the  word 
"  Grace  "  with  much  emphasis  ;  which  word,  enter- 
ing the  portals  of  Mr.  Willet's  brain  as  they  stood 
ajar,  and  coupling  itself  with  the  words  "before 
meat,"  which  were  there  ranging  about,  did  in  time 
suggest  a  particular  kind  of  meat,  together  with 
that  description  of  vegetable  which  is  usually  its 
companion. 

The   search  was  wholly  unsuccessful.     Joe   had 


246  BAUNABY   RUDGE. 

groped  along  the  path  a  dozen  times,  and  among  the 
grass,  and  in  the  dry  ditch,  and  in  the  hedge,  but 
all  in  vain.  Dolly,  who  was  quite  inconsolable  for 
her  loss,  wrote  a  note  to  Miss  Haredale,  giving  her 
the  same  account  of  it  that  she  had  given  at  the 
Maypole,  which  Joe  undertook  to  deliver  as  soon  as 
the  family  were  stirring  next  day.  That  done,  they 
sat  down  to  tea  in  the  bar,  where  there  was  an  un- 
common display  of  buttered  toast,  and  —  in  order 
that  they  might  not  grow  faint  for  want  of  suste- 
nance, and  might  have  a  decent  halting-place  or 
half-way  house  between  dinner  and  supper  —  a  few 
savory  trifles  in  the  shape  of  great  rashers  of  broiled 
ham,  which,  being  well  cured,  done  to  a  turn,  and 
smoking  hot,  sent  forth  a  tempting  and  delicious 
fragrance. 

Mrs.  Varden  was  seldom  very  Protestant  at  meals, 
unless  it  happened  that  they  were  underdone  or 
overdone,  or  indeed  that  anything  occurred  to  put 
her  out  of  humor.  Her  spirits  rose  considerably  on 
beholding  these  goodly  preparations,  and,  from  the 
nothingness  of  good  works,  she  passed  to  the  some- 
thingness  of  ham  and  toast  with  great  cheerfulness. 
Nay,  under  the  influence  of  these  wholesome  stimu- 
lants, she  sharply  reproved  her  daughter  for  being 
low  and  despondent  (which  she  considered  an  unac- 
ceptable frame  of  mind),  and  remarked,  as  she  held 
her  own  plate  for  a  fresh  supply,  that  it  would  be 
well  for  Dolly,  who  pined  over  the  loss  of  a  toy  and 
a  sheet  of  paper,  if  she  would  reflect  upon  the  vol- 
untary sacrifices  of  the  missionaries  in  foreign  parts, 
who  lived  chiefly  on  salads. 

The  proceedings  of  such  a  day  occasioned  various 
fluctuations  in  the  human  thermometer,  and   espe- 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  247 

cially  in  instruments  so  sensitively  and  delicately 
constructed  as  jMrs.  Varden.  Thus  at  dinner  Mrs. 
V.  stood  at  summer  heat ;  genial,  smiling,  and 
delightful.  After  dinner,  in  the  sunshine  of  the 
wine,  she  went  up  at  least  half  a  dozen  degrees, 
and  was  perfectly  enchanting.  As  its  effect  sub- 
sided she  fell  rapidly,  went  to  sleep  for  an  hour  or 
so  at  temperate,  and  woke  at  something  below 
freezing.  Now  she  was  at  summer  heat  again  in 
the  shade  ;  and  when  tea  was  over,  and  old  John, 
producing  a  bottle  of  cordial  from  one  of  the  oaken 
cases,  insisted  on  her  sipping  two  glasses  thereof  in 
slow  succession,  she  stood  steadily  at  ninety  for  one 
hour  and  a  quarter.  Profiting  by  experience,  the 
locksmith  took  advantage  of  this  genial  weather  to 
smoke  his  pipe  in  the  porch,  and,  in  consequence  of 
this  prudent  management,  he  was  fully  prepared, 
when  the  glass  went  down  again,  to  start  homewards 
directly. 

The  horse  was  accordingly  put  in,  and  the  chaise 
brought  round  to  the  door.  Joe,  who  would  on  no 
account  be  dissuaded  from  escorting  them  until  they 
had  passed  the  most  dreary  and  solitary  part  of  the 
road,  led  out  the  gray  mare  at  the  same  time ;  and, 
having  helped  Dolly  into  her  seat  (more  happiness  !), 
sprung  gayly  into  the  saddle.  Then,  after  many 
good-nights,  and  admonitions  to  wrap  up,  and  glan- 
cing of  lights,  and  handing  in  of  cloaks  and  shawls, 
the  chaise  rolled  away,  and  Joe  trotted  beside  it  — 
on  Dolly's  side,  no  doubt,  and  pretty  close  to  the 
wheel  too. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

It  was  a  fine  bright  night,  and  for  all  her  lowness 
of  spirits  Dolly  kept  looking  up  at  the  stars  in  a 
manner  so  bewitching  (and  she  knew  it !)  that  Joe 
was  clean  out  of  his  senses,  and  plainly  showed  that 
if  ever  a  man  were,  not  to  say  over  head  and  ears, 
but  over  the  Monument  and  the  top  of  St.  Paul's  in 
love,  that  man  was  himself.  The  road  was  a  very 
good  one ;  not  at  all  a  jolting  road,  or  an  uneven 
one  ;  and  yet  Dolly  held  the  side  of  the  chaise  with 
one  little  hand  all  the  way.  If  there  had  been  an 
executioner  behind  him  with  an  uplifted  axe  ready 
to  chop  off  his  head  if  he  touched  that  hand,  Joe 
couldn't  have  helped  doing  it.  From  putting  his 
own  hand  upon  it  as  if  by  chance,  and  taking  it 
away  again  after  a  minute  or  so,  he  got  to  riding 
along  without  taking  it  off  at  all;  as  if  he,  the 
escort,  were  bound  to  do  that  as  an  important  part 
of  his  duty,  and  had  come  out  for  the  purpose.  The 
most  curious  circumstance  about  this  little  incident 
was,  that  Dolly  didn't  seem  to  know  of  it.  She 
looked  so  innocent  and  unconscious  when  she  turned 
her  eyes  on  Joe,  that  it  was  quite  provoking. 

She  talked,  though ;  talked  about  her  fright,  and 
about  Joe's  coming  up  to  rescue  her,  and  about  her 
gratitude,  and  about  her  fear  that  she  might  not 
248 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  249 

have  thanked  him  enough,  and  about  their  always 
being  friends  from  that  time  forth  —  and  about  all 
that  sort  of  thing.  And  when  Joe  said,  not  friends 
he  hoped,  Dolly  was  quite  surprised,  and  said,  not 
enemies  she  hoped ;  and  when  Joe  said,  couldn't 
they  be  something  much  better  than  either  ?  Dolly 
all  of  a  sudden  found  out  a  star  which  was  brighter 
than  all  the  other  stars,  and  begged  to  call  his  atten- 
tion to  the  same,  and  was  ten  thousand  times  more 
innocent  and  unconscious  than  ever. 

In  this  manner  they  travelled  along,  talking  very 
little  above  a  whisper,  and  wishing  the  road  could 
be  stretched  out  to  some  dozen  times  its  natural 
length — at  least,  that  was  Joe's  desire  —  when,  as 
they  were  getting  clear  of  the  forest  and  emerging 
on  the  more  frequented  road,  they  heard  behind 
them  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  at  a  round  trot, 
which,  growing  rapidly  louder  as  it  drew  nearer, 
elicited  a  scream  from  Mrs.  Varden,  and  the  cry  "  A 
friend !  "  from  the  rider,  who  now  came  panting  up, 
and  checked  his  horse  beside  them. 

''  This  man  again  !  "  cried  Dolly,  shuddering. 

"  Hugh ! "  said  Joe.  "  What  errand  are  you 
upon  ? '' 

"I  come  to  ride  back  with  you,"  he  answered, 
glancing  covertly  at  the  locksmith's  daughter.  "  He 
sent  me." 

"  My  father ! "  said  poor  Joe  ;  adding  under  his 
breath,  with  a  very  unfilial  apostrophe,  "Will  he 
never  think  me  man  enough  to  take  care  of  myself  ?  " 

u  j^y  [ "  returned  Hugh  to  the  first  part  of  the 
inquiry.  "The  roads  are  not  safe  just  now,  he 
says,  and  you'd  better  have  a  companion." 

"Ride  on,  then,"  said  Joe.  "I'm  not  going  to 
turn  yet." 


250  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

Hugh  complied,  and  they  went  on  again.  It  was 
his  whim  or  humor  to  ride  immediately  before  the 
chaise,  and  from  this  position  he  constantly  turned 
his  head,  and  looked  back.  Dolly  felt  that  he  looked 
at  her,  but  she  averted  her  eyes  and  feared  to  raise 
them  once,  so  great  was  the  dread  with  which  he 
had  inspired  her.* 

This  interruption,  and  the  consequent  wakeful- 
ness of  Mrs.  Varden,  who  had  been  nodding  in  her 
sleep  up  to  this  point,  except  for  a  minute  or  two 
at  a  time,  when  she  roused  herself  to  scold  the 
locksmith  for  audaciously  taking  hold  of  her  to  pre- 
vent her  nodding  herself  out  of  the  chaise,  put  a 
restraint  upon  the  whispered  conversation,  and  made 
it  difficult  of  resumption.  Indeed,  before  they  had 
gone  another  mile,  Gabriel  stopped  at  his  wife's 
desire,  and  that  good  lady  protested  she  would  not 
hear  of  Joe's  going  a  step  farther  on  any  account 
whatever.  It  was  in  vain  for  Joe  to  protest,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  he  was  by  no  means  tired,  and 
would  turn  back  presently,  and  would  see  them 
safely  past  such  and  such  a  point,  and  so  forth. 
Mrs.  Varden  was  obdurate,  and,  being  so,  was  not 
to  be  overcome  by  mortal  agency. 

"Good-night  —  if  I  must  say  it,"  said  Joe  sor- 
rowfully. 

'■'  Good-night,"  said  Dolly.  She  would  have  added, 
"  Take  care  of  that  man,  and  pray  don't  trust  him," 
but  he  had  turned  his  horse's  head,  and  was  standing 
close  to  them.  She  had,  therefore,  nothing  for  it 
but  to  suffer  Joe  to  give  her  hand  a  gentle  squeeze, 
and  when  the  chaise  had  gone  on  for  some  distance, 
to  look  back  and  wave  it,  as  he  still  lingered  on  the 
si)ot  wluu'e  tliey  had  parted,  with  the  tall  dark  figure 
of  Hugh  beside  him. 


BAENABY   KUDGE.  251 

What  she  thought  about,  going  home  ;  and  whether 
the  coachmaker  hekl  as  favorable  a  place  in  her 
meditations  as  he  had  occupied  in  the  morning,  is 
unknown.  They  reached  home  at  last  —  at  last,  for 
it  was  a  long  way,  made  none  the  shorter  by  Mrs. 
Varden's  grumbling.  Miggs,  hearing  the  sound  of 
wheels,  was  at  the  door  immediately. 

"  Here  they  are,  Simmuu !  Here  they  are  !  "  cried 
Miggs,  clapping  her  hands,  and  issuing  forth  to  help 
her  mistress  to  alight.  "Bring  a  chair,  Simmun. 
Now,  ain't  you  better  for  it,  mim  ?  Don't  you  feel 
more  yourself  than  you  would  have  done  if  you'd 
have  stopped  at  home  ?  Oh  gracious !  how  cold  you 
are !     Goodness  me,  sir,  she's  a  perfect  heap  of  ice." 

"  I  can't  help  it,  my  good  girl.  You  had  better 
take  her  in  to  the  fire,"  said  the  locksmith. 

"  Master  sounds  unfeeling,  mim,"  said  Miggs  in  a 
tone  of  commiseration,  "  but  such  is  not  his  inten- 
tions, I'm  sure.  After  what  he  has  seen  of  you  this 
day,  I  never  will  believe  but  that  he  has  a  deal  more 
affection  in  his  heart  than  to  speak  unkind.  Come 
in  and  sit  yourself  down  by  the  fire  ;  there's  a  good 
dear  —  do." 

Mrs.  Varden  complied.  The  locksmith  followed 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  jNIr.  Tappertit 
trundled  off  with  the  chaise  to  a  neighboring  stable. 

"  jNlartha,  my  dear,"  said  the  locksmith,  when  they 
reached  the  parlor,  "  if  you'll  look  to  Dolly  your- 
self, or  let  somebody  else  do  it,  perhaps  it  will  be 
only  kind  and  reasonable.  She  has  been  frightened 
you  know,  and  is  not  at  all  w^ell  to-night." 

In  fact,  Dolly  had  thrown  herself  upon  the  sofa, 
quite  regardless  of  all  the  little  finery  of  which 
she  had  been  so  proud  in  the  morning,  and,  with 


252  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  was  crying  very 
much. 

At  first  sight  of  this  phenomenon  (for  Dolly  was 
by  no  means  accustomed  to  displays  of  this  sort, 
rather  learning  from  her  mother's  example  to  avoid 
them  as  much  as  possible),  Mrs.  Varden  expressed 
her  belief  that  never  was  any  woman  so  beset  as 
she :  that  her  life  was  a  continued  scene  of  trial  ■ 
that  whenever  she  was  disposed  to  be  well  and 
cheerful,  so  sure  were  the  people  around  her  to 
throw,  by  some  means  or  other,  a  damp  upon  her 
spirits ;  and  that,  as  she  had  enjoyed  herself  that 
day,  and  Heaven  knew  it  was  very  seldom  she  did 
enjoy  herself,  so  she  was  now  to  pay  the  penalty. 
To  all  such  propositions  Miggs  assented  freely. 
Poor  Dolly,  however,  grew  none  the  better  for  these 
restoratives,  but  rather  worse,  indeed;  and  seeing 
that  she  was  really  ill,  both  ]\Irs.  Varden  and  Miggs 
were  moved  to  compassion,  and  tended  her  in 
earnest. 

But  even  then  their  very  kindness  shaped  itself 
into  their  usual  course  of  ix)licy,  and  though  Dolly 
was  in  a  swoon,  it  was  rendered  clear  to  the  meanest 
capacity  that  Mrs.  Varden  was  the  sufferer.  Thus 
when  Dolly  began  to  get  a  little  better,  and  passed 
into  that  stage  in  which  matrons  hold  that  remon- 
strance and  argument  may  be  successfully  applied, 
her  mother  represented  to  her,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
that  if  she  had  been  flurried  and  worried  that  day, 
she  must  remember  it  was  the  common  lot  of 
humanity,  and  in  especial  of  womankind,  who 
through  the  whole  of  their  existence  must  expect 
no  less,  and  were  bound  to  make  up  their  minds  to 
meek   endurance    and    patient    resignation.      Mrs. 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  253 

Varden  entreated  her  to  remember  that  one  of  these 
days  she  woukl,  in  all  probability,  have  to  do  violence 
to  her  feelings  so  far  as  to  be  married ;  and  that 
marriage,  as  she  might  see  every  day  of  her  life 
(and  tridy  she  did),  was  a  state  requiring  great 
fortitude  and  forbearance.  She  represented  to  her 
in  lively  colors,  that  if  she  (Mrs.  V.)  had  not,  in 
steering  her  course  through  this  vale  of  tears,  been 
supported  by  a  strong  principle  of  duty,  which  alone 
upheld  and  prevented  her  from  drooping,  she  must 
have  been  in  her  grave  many  years  ago ;  in  which 
case  she  desired  to  know  what  would  have  become 
of  that  errant  spirit  (meaning  the  locksmith),  of 
whose  eyes  she  was  the  very  apple,  and  in  whose 
path  she  was,  as  it  were,  a  shining  light  and  guiding 
star? 

Miss  Miggs  also  put  in  her  word  to  the  same 
effect.  She  said  that  indeed  and  indeed  Miss  Dolly 
might  take  pattern  by  her  blessed  mother,  who,  she 
always  had  said,  and  always  would  say,  though  she 
were  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered  for  it  next 
minute,  was  the  mildest,  amiablest,  forgivingest- 
spirited,  long-sufferingest  female  as  ever  she  could 
have  believed ;  the  mere  narration  of  whose  excel- 
lences had  worked  such  a  wholesome  change  in  the 
mind  of  her  own  sister-in-law,  that,  whereas,  before, 
she  and  her  husband  lived  like  cat  and  dog,  and  were 
m  the  habit  of  exchanging  brass  candlesticks,  pot- 
lids,  flat-irons,  and  other  such  strong  resentments, 
they  were  now  the  happiest  and  affectionatest  couple 
upon  earth ;  as  could  be  proved  any  day  on  applica- 
tion at  Golden  Lion  Court,  number  twenty-sivin, 
second  bell-handle  on  the  right-hand  door-post. 
After  glancing  at  herself  as  a  comparatively  worth- 


254  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

less  vessel,  but  still  as  one  of  some  desert,  she 
besouglit  her  to  bear  in  mind  that  her  aforesaid  dear 
and  only  mother  was  of  a  weakly  constitution  and 
excitable  temperament,  who  had  constantly  to  sus- 
tain afflictions  in  domestic  life,  compared  with  which 
thieves  and  robbers  were  as  nothing,  and  yet  never 
sunk  down  or  gave  way  to  despair  or  wrath,  but,  in 
prize-fighting  phraseology,  always  came  up  to  time 
with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and  went  in  to  win  as 
if  nothing  had  happened.  When  INIiggs  had  finished 
her  solo,  her  mistress  struck  in  again,  and  the  two 
together  performed  a  duet  to  the  same  purpose  ;  the 
burden  being  that  Mvs.  Varden  was  persecuted  per- 
fection, and  Mr.  Varden  as  the  representative  of 
mankind  in  that  apartment,  a  creature  of  vicious 
and  brutal  habits,  utterly  insensible  to  the  blessings 
he  enjoyed.  Of  so  refined  a  character,  indeed,  was 
their  talent  of  assault  under  the  mask  of  sympathy, 
that  when  Dolly,  recovering,  embraced  her  father 
tenderly,  as  if  in  vindication  of  his  goodness,  Mrs. 
Varden  expressed  her  solemn  hope  that  this  would 
be  a  lesson  to  him  for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  and 
that  he  would  do  some  little  justice  to  a  woman's 
nature  ever  afterwards  —  in  which  aspiration  Miss 
Miggs  by  divers  sniffs  and  coughs,  more  significant 
than  the  longest  oration,  expressed  her  entire 
concurrence. 

But  the  great  joy  of  Miggs's  heart  was,  that  she 
not  only  picked  up  a  full  account  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, but  had  the  exquisite  delight  of  conveying  it 
to  Mr.  Tappertit  for  his  jealousy  and  torture.  For 
that  gentleman  on  account  of  Dolly's  indisposition, 
had  been  required  to  take  his  supper  in  the  work- 
shop, and  it  was  conveyed  thither  by  Miss  Miggs's 
own  fair  hands. 


BAENABY   RUDGE.  255 

"  Oh,  Simmim !  "  said  the  young  lady,  "  such 
goings  on  to-day  !     Oh,  gracious  me,  Simmun  !  " 

Mr.  Tappertit,  who  was  not  in  the  best  of  humors, 
and  who  disliked  Miss  Miggs  more  when  she  laid 
her  hand  on  her  heart  and  panted  for  breath  than  at 
any  other  time,  as  her  deficiency  of  outline  was 
most  apparent  under  such  circumstances,  eyed  her 
over  in  his  loftiest  style,  and  deigned  to  express  no 
curiosity  whatever. 

"  I  never  heard  the  like,  nor  nobody  else,"  pursued 
Miggs.  "  The  idea  of  interfering  with  her  !  What 
people  can  see  in  her  to  make  it  worth  their  while  to 
do  so,  that's  the  joke  —  he,  he,  he  !  " 

Finding  there  was  a  lady  in  the  case,  Mr.  Tappertit 
haughtily  requested  his  fair  friend  to  be  more  expli- 
cit, and  demanded  to  know  what  she  meant  by  "  her." 

"  Why,  that  Dolly,"  said  Miggs,  with  an  extremely 
sharp  emphasis  on  the  name.  "  But  oh,  upon  my 
word  and  honor,  young  Joseph  Willet  is  a  brave 
one,  and  he  do  deserve  her,  that  he  do." 

"Woman!"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  jumping  off  the 
counter  on  which  he  was  seated ;  "  beware  ! " 

"My  stars,  Simmun!"  cried  Miggs  in  affected 
astonishment.  "  You  frighten  me  to  death  !  What's 
the  matter  ?  " 

"There  are  strings,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  flourish- 
ing his  bread  and  cheese  knife  in  the  air,  "  in  the 
human  heart  that  had  better  not  be  wibrated. 
That's  what's  the  matter." 

"Oh,  very  well  —  if  you're  in  a  huff  — "  cried 
Miggs,  turning  away. 

"  Huff  or  no  huff,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  detaining 
her  by  the  wrist.  "  What  do  you  mean,  Jezebel  ? 
What  were  you  going  to  say  ?     Answer  me  ! " 


256  BARNABY  RTJDGE. 

Notwithstanding  this  uncivil  exhortation,  Miggs 
gladly  did  as  she  was  required ;  and  told  him  how 
that  their  young  mistress,  being  alone  in  the  mead- 
ows after  dark,  had  been  attacked  by  three  or  four 
tall  men,  who  would  have  certainly  borne  her  away, 
and  perhaps  murdered  her,  but  for  the  timely  ar- 
rival of  Joseph  Willet,  who  with  his  own  single 
hand  put  them  all  to  flight,  and  rescued  her ;  to  the 
lasting  admiration  of  his  fellow-creatures  generally, 
and  to  the  eternal  love  and  gratitude  of  Dolly 
Varden. 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  fetching  a  long 
breath  when  the  tale  was  told,  and  rubbing  his  hair 
up  till  it  stood  stiff  and  straight  on  end  all  over  his 
head.     "His  days  are  numbered." 

"  Oh,  Simmun  !  " 

"I  tell  you,"  said  the  'prentice,  "his  days  are 
numbered.     Leave  me.     Get  along  with  you." 

Miggs  departed  at  his  bidding,  but  less  because  of 
his  bidding  than  because  she  desired  to  chuckle  in 
secret.  When  she  had  given  vent  to  her  satisfaction, 
she  returned  to  the  parlor;  where  the  locksmith, 
stimulated  by  quietness  and  Toby,  had  become 
talkative,  and  was  disposed  to  take  a  cheerful  re- 
view of  the  occurrences  of  the  day.  But  Mrs.  Var- 
den, whose  practical  religion  (as  is  not  uncommon) 
was  usually  of  the  retrospective  order,  cut  him  short 
by  declaiming  on  the  sinfulness  of  such  junketings, 
and  holding  that  it  was  high  time  to  go  to  bed.  To 
bed,  therefore,  she  withdrew,  with  an  aspect  as  gi-im 
and  gloomy  as  that  of  the  Maypole's  own  state 
couch ;  and  to  bed  the  rest  of  the  establishment 
soon  afterwards  repaired. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Twilight  had  given  place  to  night  some  hours, 
and  it  was  high  noon  in  those  quarters  of  the  town 
in  which  "the  world  "  condescended  to  dwell  —  the 
world  being  then,  as  now,  of  very  limited  dimensions 
and  easily  lodged  —  when  Mr.  Chester  reclined  upon 
a  sofa  in  his  dressing-room  in  the  Temple,  entertain- 
ing himself  with  a  book. 

He  was  dressing,  as  it  seemed,  by  easy  stages, 
and  having  performed  half  the  journey,  was  taking 
a  long  rest.  Completely  attired,  as  to  his  legs  and 
feet,  in  the  trimmest  fashion  of  the  day,  he  had  yet 
tlie  remainder  of  his  toilet  to  perform.  The  coat 
was  stretched,  like  a  refined  scarecrow,  on  its  sepa- 
rate horse  ;  the  waistcoat  was  displayed  to  the  best 
advantage  ;  the  various  ornamental  articles  of  dress 
were  severally  set  out  in  most  alluring  order ;  and 
yet  he  lay  dangling  his  legs  between  the  sofa  and 
the  ground,  as  intent  upon  his  book  as  if  there  were 
nothing  but  bed  before  him. 

"  Upon  my  honor,"  he  said,  at  length  raising  his 
eyes  to  the  ceiling  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was 
reflecting  seriously  on  what  he  had  read ;  "  upon  my 
honor,  the  most  masterly  composition,  the  most  deli- 
cate thoughts,  the  finest  code  of  morality,  and  the 
most  gentlemanly  sentiments  in  the  universe  ! 
VOL.  I.-17.  257 


258  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

Ah,  Ned,  Ned,  if  you  would  but  form  your  mind 
by  such  precepts,  we  should  have  but  one  common 
feeling  on  every  subject  that  could  possibly  arise 
between  us  ! " 

This  apostrophe  was  addressed,  like  the  rest  of 
his  remarks,  to  empty  air:  for  Edward  was  not 
present,  and  the  fatlier  was  quite  alone. 

"My  Lord  Chesterfield,"  he  said,  pressing  his 
hand  tenderly  upon  the  book  as  he  laid  it  down,  "  if 
I  could  but  have  profited  by  your  genius  soon  enough 
to  have  formed  my  son  on  the  model  you  have  left 
to  all  wise  fathers,  both  he  and  I  would  have  been 
rich  men.  Shakespeare  was  undoubtedly  very  fine 
in  his  way ;  Milton  good,  though  prosy ;  Lord  Bacon 
deep,  and  decidedly  knowing ;  but  the  writer  who 
should  be  his  country's  pride  is  my  Lord  Chester- 
field." 

He  became  thoughtful  again,  and  the  toothpick 
was  in  requisition. 

"  I  thought  I  was  tolerably  accomplished  as  a  man 
of  the  world,"  he  continued.  "  I  flattered  myself 
that  I  was  pretty  well  versed  in  all  those  little  arts 
and  graces  which  distinguish  men  of  the  world  from 
boors  and  peasants,  and  separate  their  character 
from  those  intensely  vulgar  sentiments  which  are 
called  the  national  character.  Apart  from  any  nat- 
ural prepossession  in  my  own  favor,  I  believed  I 
was.  Still,  in  every  page  of  this  enlightened 
writer,  I  find  some  captivating  hypocrisy  which  has 
never  occurred  to  me  before,  or  some  superlative 
piece  of  selfishness  to  which  I  was  utterly  a  stran- 
ger. I  should  quite  blush  for  myself  before  this 
stupendous  creature,  if,  remembering  his  precepts, 
one  might  blush  at  anything.     An  amazing  man  ! 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  259 

A  nobleman  indeed !  Any  King  or  Queen  may  make 
a  Lord,  but  only  the  Devil  himself  —  and  the  Graces 
—  can  make  a  Chesterfield." 

Men  who  are  thoroughly  false  and  hollow  seldom 
try  to  hide  those  vices  from  themselves ;  and  yet,  in 
the  very  act  of  avowing  them,  they  lay  claim,  to  the 
virtues  they  feign  most  to  despise.  "  For,"  say 
they,  "  this  is  honesty,  this  is  truth.  All  mankind 
are  like  us,  but  they  have  not  the  candor  to  avow  it." 
The  more  they  affect  to  deny  the  existence  of  any 
sincerity  in  the  world,  the  more  they  would  be 
thought  to  possess  it  in  its  boldest  shape ;  and  this 
is  an  unconscious  compliment  to  Truth  on  the  part 
of  these  philosophers,  which  will  turn  the  laugh 
against  them  to  the  Day  of  Judgment. 

Mr.  Chester,  having  extolled  his  favorite  author  as 
above  recited,  took  up  the  book  again  in  the  excess 
of  his  admiration,  and  was  composing  himself  for  a 
further  perusal  of  its  sublime  morality,  when  he  was 
disturbed  by  a  noise  at  the  outer  door ;  occasioned, 
as  it  seemed,  by  the  endeavors  of  his  servant  to 
obstruct  the  entrance  of  some  unwelcome  visitor. 

''A  late  hour  for  an  importunate  creditor,"  he 
said,  raising  his  eyebrows  with  as  indolent  an 
expression  of  wonder  as  if  the  noise  were  in  the 
street,  and  one  with  which  he  had  not  the  smallest 
personal  concern.  "Much  after  their  accustomed 
time.  The  usual  pretence  I  suppose.  No  doubt  a 
heavy  payment  to  make  up  to-morrow.  Poor  fellow, 
he  loses  time,  and  time  is  money,  as  the  good  proverb 
says  —  I  never  found  it  out,  though.  Well,  what 
now  ?     You  know  I  am  not  at  home." 

"  A  man,  sir,"  replied  the  servant,  who  was  to  the 
full  as  cool  and  negligent  in  his  way  as  his  master. 


260  BAKNABY  KUDGE. 

"  has  brought  home  the  riding-whip  you  lost  the 
other  day.  I  told  him  you  were  out,  but  he  said  he 
was  to  wait  while  I  brought  it  in,  and  wouldn't  go 
till  I  did." 

"  He  was  quite  right/'  returned  his  master,  "  and 
you're  a  blockhead,  possessing  no  judgment  or  dis- 
cretion whatever.  Tell  him  to  come  in,  and  see  that 
he  rubs  his  shoes  for  exactly  five  minutes  first." 

The  man  laid  the  whip  on  a  chair,  and  withdrew. 
The  master,  who  had  only  heard  his  foot  upon  the 
ground,  and  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  turn  round 
and  look  at  him,  shut  his  book,  and  pursued  the  train 
of  ideas  his  entrance  had  disturbed. 

"  If  time  were  money,"  he  said,  handling  his  snuff- 
box, "I  would  compound  with  my  creditors,  and  give 
them  —  let  me  see  —  how  much  a  day  ?  There's  my 
nap  after  dinner  —  an  hour  —  they're  extremely  wel- 
come to  that,  and  to  make  the  most  of  it.  In  the 
morning,  between  my  breakfast  and  the  paper,  I 
could  spare  them  another  hour;  in  the  evening, 
before  dinner,  say  another.  Three  hours  a  day. 
They  might  pay  themselves  in  calls,  with  interest, 
in  twelve  months.  I  think  I  shall  propose  it  to  them. 
Ah,  my  centaur,  are  you  there  ?  " 

'•  Here  I  am,"  replied  Hugh,  striding  in,  followed 
by  a  dog  as  rough  and  sullen  as  himself ;  "  and 
trouble  enough  I've  had  to  get  here.  What  do 
you  ask  me  to  come  for,  and  keep  me  out  when  I  do 
come  ?  " 

"  j\[y  good  fellow,"  returned  the  other,  raising  his 
head  a  little  from  the  cushion,  and  carelessly  survey- 
ing him  from  top  to  toe,  "I  am  delighted  to  see 
you,  and  to  have,  in  your  being  here,  the  very  best 
proof  that  you  are  not  kept  out.     How  are  you  ?  " 


BARXABY   EUDGE.  261 

"  I'm  ■n'ell  enough,"  said  Hugh  impatiently. 

"You  look  a  perfect  marvel  of  health.  Sit 
down." 

"  I'd  rather  stand,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Please  yourself,  my  good  fellow,"  returned  Mr. 
Chester,  rising,  slowly  pulling  off  the  loose  robe  he 
wore,  and  sitting  down  before  the  dressing-glass. 
"Please  yourself  by  all  means." 

Having  said  this  in  the  jjolitest  and  blandest  tone 
possible,  he  went  on  dressing,  and  took  no  further 
notice  of  his  guest,  who  stood  in  the  same  spot,  as 
uncertain  what  to  do  next,  eying  him  sulkily  from 
time  to  time. 

"  Are  you  going  to  speak  to  me,  master  ?  "  he  said 
after  a  long  silence, 

"My  worthy  creature,"  returned  Mr.  Chester, 
"you  are  a  little  rufSed  and  out  of  humor.  I'll 
wait  till  you're  quite  yourself  again.  I  am  in  no 
hurry." 

This  behavior  had  its  intended  effect.  It  humbled 
and  abashed  the  man,  and  made  him  still  more  irres- 
olute and  uncertain.  Hard  words  he  could  have 
returned,  violence  he  would  have  repaid  with  inter- 
est ;  but  this  cool,  complacent,  contemptuous,  self- 
possessed  reception  caused  him  to  feel  his  inferiority 
more  completely  than  the  most  elaborate  arguments. 
Everything  contributed  to  this  effect.  His  own 
rough  speech,  contrasted  with  the  soft  persuasive 
accents  of  the  other ;  his  rude  bearing,  and  Mr. 
Chester's  polished  manner ;  the  disorder  and  negli- 
gence of  his  ragged  dress,  and  the  elegant  attire  he 
saw  before  him  :  with  all  the  unaccustomed  luxuries 
and  comforts  of  the  room,  and  the  silence  that  gave 
him  leisure  to  observe  these  things,  and  feel  how  ill 


262  BARNABY  RTJDGE. 

at  ease  they  made  him ;  all  these  influences,  which 
have  too  often  some  effect  on  tutored  minds,  and 
become  of  almost  resistless  power  when  brought  to 
bear  on  such  a  mind  as  his,  quelled  Hugh  completely. 
He  moved  by  little  and  little  nearer  to  Mr.  Chester's 
chair,  and  glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  face  in  the  glass,  as  if  seeking  for  some 
encouragement  in  its  expression,  said  at  length,  with 
a  rough  attempt  at  conciliation,  — 

"  Are  you  going  to  speak  to  me,  master,  or  am  I  to 
go  away  ?  " 

"  Sj)eak  you,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  speak  you,  good 
fellow.  I  have  spoken,  have  I  not  ?  I  am  waiting 
for  you." 

"  Why,  lookee,  sir,"  returned  Hugh  with  increased 
embarrassment,  "  am  I  the  man  that  you  privately 
left  your  whip  with  before  you  rode  away  from  the 
Maypole,  and  told  to  bring  it  back  whenever  he 
might  want  to  see  you  on  a  certain  subject  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  the  same,  or  you  have  a  twin  brother," 
said  Mr.  Chester,  glancing  at  the  reflection  of  his 
anxious  face ;  "  which  is  not  probable,  I  should  say." 

"  Then  I  have  come,  sir,"  said  Hugh,  "  and  I  have 
brought  it  back,  and  something  else  along  with  it. 
A  letter,  sir,  it  is,  that  I  took  from  the  person  who 
had  charge  of  it."  As  he  spoke,  he  laid  upon  the 
dressing-table  Dolly's  lost  epistle.  The  very  letter 
that  had  cost  her  so  much  trouble. 

"  Did  you  obtain  this  by  force,  my  good  fellow  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Chester,  casting  his  eye  upon  it  without 
the  least  perceptible  surprise  or  pleasure. 

"  Not  quite,"  said  Hugh.     "  Partly." 

"Who  was  the  messenger  from  whom  you  took 
it?" 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  263 

"  A  woman.     One  Varden's  daughter." 

"  Oh  indeed !  "  said  Mr.  Chester  gayly.  "  What 
else  did  you  take  from  her  ?  " 

"  What  else  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  other  in  a  drawling  manner,  for 
he  was  fixing  a  very  small  patch  of  sticking-plaster 
on  a  very  small  pimple  near  the  corner  of  his 
mouth.     "  What  else  ?  " 

"  Well  —  a  kiss,"  replied  Hugh  after  some  hesita- 
tion. 

"  And  what  else  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

"  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Chester  in  the  same  easy  tone, 
and  smiling  twice  or  thrice  to  try  if  the  patch 
adhered  —  "I  think  there  was  something  else.  I 
have  heard  a  trifle  of  jewellery  spoken  of — a  mere 
trifle  —  a  thing  of  such  little  value,  indeed,  that 
you  may  have  forgotten  it.  Do  you  remember  any- 
thing of  the  kind  —  such  as  a  bracelet  now,  for 
instance  ?  " 

Hugh  with  a  muttered  oath  thrust  his  hand  into 
his  breast,  and  drawing  the  bracelet  forth,  wrapped 
in  a  scrap  of  hay,  was  about  to  lay  it  on  the  table 
likewise,  when  his  patron  stopped  his  hand  and 
bade  him  put  it  up  again. 

"  You  took  that  for  yourself,  my  excellent  friend," 
he  said,  "  and  may  keep  it.  I  am  neither  a  thief 
nor  a  receiver.  Don't  show  it  to  me.  You  had 
better  hide  it  again,  and  lose  no  time.  Don't  let  me 
see  where  you  put  it  either,"  he  added,  turning  away 
his  head. 

"  You're  not  a  receiver ! "  said  Hugh  bluntly, 
despite  the  increasing  awe  in  which  he  held  him. 
"  What  do  you  call  that,  master  ?  "  striking  the 
letter  with  his  heavy  hand. 


264  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  I  call  that  quite  another  thing,"  said  Mr.  Ches- 
ter coolly.  "  I  shall  prove  it  presently,  as  you  will 
see.     You  are  thirsty,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Hugh  drew  his  sleeve  across  his  lips,  and  gruffly 
answered  yes. 

"Step  to  that  closet,  and  bring  me  a  bottle  you 
will  see  there,  and  a  glass." 

He  obeyed.  His  patron  followed  him  with  his 
eyes,  and  when  his  back  was  turned,  smiled  as  he 
had  never  done  when  he  stood  beside  the  mirror. 
On  his  return,  he  filled  the  glass  and  bade  him 
drink.  That  dram  despatched,  he  poured  him  out 
another,  and  another. 

"  How  many  can  you  bear  ?  "  he  said,  filling  the 
glass  again. 

"As  many  as  you  like  to  give  me.  Pour  on.  Fill 
high.  A  bumper  with  a  bead  in  the  middle  !  Give 
me  enough  of  this,"  he  added,  as  he  tossed  it  down 
his  hairy  throat,  "and  I'll  do  murder  if  you  ask 
me!" 

"  As  I  don't  mean  to  ask  you,  and  you  might  pos- 
sibly do  it  without  being  invited  if  you  went  on 
much  further,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with  great  com- 
posure, "  we  will  stop,  if  agreeable  to  you,  my  good 
friend,  at  the  next  glass.  —  You  were  drinking 
before  you  came  here." 

"I  always  am  when  I  can  get  it,"  cried  Hugh 
boisterously,  waving  the  empty  glass  above  his  head, 
and  throwing  himself  into  a  rude  dancing  attitude. 
"  I  always  am.  Why  not  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  What's 
so  good  to  me  as  this  ?  What  ever  has  been  ? 
What  else  has  kept  away  the  cold  on  bitter  nights, 
and  driven  hunger  off  in  starving  times  ?  What 
else  has  given  me  the  strength  and  courage  of  a 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  265 

man,  when  men  would  have  left  me  to  die,  a  puny 
child  ?  I  should  never  have  had  a  man's  heart  but 
for  this.  I  should  have  died  in  a  ditch.  Where's 
he  who,  when  I  was  a  weak  and  sickly  wretch,  with 
trembling  legs  and  fading  sight,  bade  me  cheer  up 
as  this  did  ?  I  never  knew  him;  not  I.  I  drink  to 
the  drink,  master.     Ha,  ha,  ha  ! " 

"  You  are  an  exceedingly  cheerful  young  man," 
said  Mr.  Chester,  putting  on  his  cravat  with  great 
deliberation,  and  slightly  moving  his  head  from  side 
to  side  to  settle  his  chin  in  its  proper  place.  *'  Quite 
a  boon  companion." 

"  Do  you  see  this  hand,  master,"  said  Hugh,  "  and 
this  arm  ?  "  baring  the  brawny  limb  to  the  elbow. 
"  It  was  once  mere  skin  and  bone,  and  would  have 
been  dust  in  some  poor  churchyard  by  this  time,  but 
for  the  drink." 

"  You  may  cover  it,"  said  Mr.  Chester ;  "  it's  suffi- 
ciently real  in  your  sleeve." 

"  I  should  never  have  been  spirited  up  to  take  a 
kiss  from  the  proud  little  beauty,  master,  but  for 
the  drink,"  cried  Hugh.  "  Ha,  ha,  ha !  It  was  a 
good  one.  As  sweet  as  honeysuckle,  I  warrant  you. 
I  thank  the  drink  for  it.  I'll  drink  to  the  drink 
again,  master.  Fill  me  one  more.  Come.  One 
more !  " 

"  You  are  such  a  promising  fellow,"  said  his 
patron,  putting  on  his  waistcoat  with  great  nicety, 
and  taking  no  heed  of  this  request,  "that  I  must 
caution  you  against  having  too  many  impulses  from 
the  drink,  and  getting  hung  before  your  time. 
What's  your  age  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  you  are  young 


266  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

enough  to  escape  what  I  may  call  a  natural  death 
for  some  years  to  come.  How  can  you  trust  your- 
self in  my  hands,  on  so  short  an  acquaintance,  with 
a  halter  round  your  neck  ?  What  a  confiding  nature 
yours  must  be  ! " 

Hugh  fell  back  a  pace  or  two,  and  surveyed  him 
with  a  look  of  mingled  terror,  indignation,  and  sur- 
prise. Regarding  himself  in  the  glass  with  the  same 
complacency  as  before,  and  speaking  as  smoothly  as 
if  he  were  discussing  some  pleasant  chit-chat  of 
the   town,  his  patron  went  on,  — 

"Robbery  on  the  king's  highway,  my  young 
friend,  is  a  very  dangerous  and  ticklish  occupation. 
It  is  pleasant,  I  have  no  doubt,  while  it  lasts ;  but, 
like  many  other  pleasures  in  this  transitory  world, 
it  seldom  lasts  long.  And  really  if,  in  the  ingenu- 
ousness of  youth,  you  open  your  heart  so  readily  on 
the  subject,  I  am  afraid  your  career  will  be  an 
extremely  short  one." 

"■  How's  this  ?  "  said  Hugh.  "  What  do  you  talk 
of,  master  ?     Who  was  it  set  me  on  ?  " 

"  Who  ? "  said  Mr.  Chester,  wheeling  sharply 
round,  and  looking  full  at  him  for  the  first  time, 
"  I  didn't  hear  you.     Who  was  it  ?  " 

Hugh  faltered,  and  muttered  something  which 
was  not  audible. 

*'  Who  was  it  ?  I  am  curious  to  know,"  said  Mr. 
Chester  with  surpassing  affability.  "  Some  rustic 
beauty,  perhaps  ?  But  be  cautious,  my  good  friend. 
They  are  not  always  to  be  trusted.  Do  take  my 
advice  now,  and  be  careful  of  yourself."  With 
these  words  he  turned  to  the  glass  again,  and  went 
on  with  his  toilet. 

Hugh  would  have  answered  him  that  he,  the  ques- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  267 

tioner  himself,  had  set  him  on,  but  the  words  stuck 
in  his  throat.  The  consummate  art  with  which  his 
patron  had  led  him  to  this  point,  and  managed  the 
whole  conversation,  perfectly  baffled  him.  He  did 
not  doubt  that  if  he  had  made  the  retort  which  was 
on  his  lips  when  Mr.  Chester  turned  round  and  ques- 
tioned him  so  keenly,  he  would  straightway  have 
given  him  into  custody,  and  had  him  dragged  before 
a  justice  with  the  stolen  property  upon  him  ;  in 
which  case  it  w'as  as  certain  he  would  have  been 
hung  as  it  was  that  he  had  been  born.  The  ascend- 
ency which  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  man  of  the 
world  to  establish  over  this  savage  instrument  was 
gained  from  that  time.  Hugh's  submission  was 
complete.  He  dreaded  him  beyond  description ; 
and  felt  that  accident  and  artifice  had  spun  a  web 
about  him  which,  at  a  touch  from  such  a  master 
hand  as  his,  would  bind  him  to  the  gallows. 

With  these  thoughts  passing  through  his  mind, 
and  yet  wondering  at  the  very  same  time  how  he, 
who  came  there  rioting  in  the  confidence  of  this 
man  (as  he  thought),  should  be  so  soon  and  so  thor- 
oughly subdued,  Hugh  stood  cowering  before  him, 
regarding  him  uneasily  from  time  to  time,  while  he 
finished  dressing.  When  he  had  done  so,  he  took 
up  the  letter,  broke  the  seal,  and  throwing  himself 
back  in  his  chair,  read  it  leisurely  through. 

"  Very  neatly  worded,  upon  my  life !  Quite  a 
woman's  letter,  full  of  what  people  call  tenderness, 
and  disinterestedness,  and  heart,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing." 

As  he  spoke,  he  twisted  it  up,  and  glancing  lazily 
round  at  Hugh  as  though  he  w^oiild  say,  "  You  see 
this  ?  "  held  it  in  the  flame  of  the  candle.     When  it 


268  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

was  in  a  full  blaze,  he  tossed  it  into  the  grate,  and 
there  it  smouldered  away. 

"  It  was  directed  to  my  son,"  he  said,  turning  to 
Hugh,  "  and  you  did  quite  right  to  bring  it  here.  I 
opened  it  on  my  own  responsibility,  and  you  see 
what  I  have  done  with  it.  Take  this  for  your 
trouble." 

Hugh  stepped  forward  to  receive  the  piece  of 
money  he  held  out  to  him.  As  he  put  it  in  his 
hand  he  added, — 

"  If  you  should  happen  to  find  anything  else  of 
this  sort,  or  to  pick  up  any  kind  of  information  you 
may  think  I  would  like  to  have,  bring  it  here,  will 
you,  my  good  fellow  ?  " 

This  was  said  with  a  smile  which  implied  —  or 
Hugh  thought  it  did  — "Fail  to  do  so  at  your 
peril!"     He  answered  that  he  would. 

''  And  don't,"  said  his  patron  with  an  air  of  the 
very  kindest  patronage,  "don't  be  at  all  downcast 
or  uneasy  respecting  that  little  rashness  we  have 
been  speaking  of.  Your  neck  is  as  safe  in  my 
hands,  my  good  fellow,  as  though  a  baby's  fingers 
clasped  it,  I  assure  you.  —  Take  another  glass. 
You  are  quieter  now." 

Hugh  accepted  it  from  his  hand,  and  looking  stealth- 
ily at  his  smiling  face,  drank  the  contents  in  silence. 

"Don't  you  —  ha,  ha!  —  don't  you  drink  to  the 
drink  any  more?"  said  Mr.  Chester  in  his  most 
winning  manner. 

"  To  you,  sir,"  was  the  sullen  answer,  with  some- 
thing approaching  to  a  bow.     "  I  drink  to  you." 

"  Thank  you.  God  bless  you.  By  the  by,  what 
is  your  name,  my  good  soul  ?  You  are  called  Hugh, 
I  know,  of  course.     Your  other  name  ?  " 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  269 

"  I  have  no  other  name." 

"  A  very  strange  fellow  !  Do  you  mean  that  you 
never  knew  one,  or  that  you  don't  choose  to  tell  it  ? 
Which  ?  " 

"  I'd  tell  it  if  I  could,"  said  Hugh  quickly.  "  I 
can't.  I  have  been  always  called  Hugh ;  nothing 
more.  I  never  knew,  nor  saw,  nor  thought  about  a 
father ;  and  I  was  a  boy  of  six  —  that's  not  very  old 
—  when  they  hung  my  mother  up  at  Tyburn  for  a 
couple  of  thousand  men  to  stare  at.  They  might 
have  let  her  live.     She  was  poor  enough." 

"  How  very  sad ! "  exclaimed  his  patron  with  a 
condescending  smile.  "  I  have  no  doubt  she  was  an 
exceedingly  fine  woman." 

"  You  see  that  dog  of  mine  ? "  said  Hugh. 
abruptly. 

"  Faithful,  I  dare  say  ?  "  rejoined  his  patron,  look- 
ing at  him  through  his  glass ;  "  and  immensely 
clever  ?  Virtuous  and  gifted  animals,  whether  man 
or  beast,  always  are  so  very  hideous." 

"  Such  a  dog  as  that,  and  one  of  the  same  breed, 
was  the  only  living  thing  except  me  that  howled 
that  day,"  said  Hugh.  "  Out  of  the  two  thousand 
odd  —  there  was  a  larger  crowd  for  its  being  a  woman 
— the  dog  and  I  alone  had  any  pity.  If  he'd  been 
a  man,  he'd  have  been  glad  to  be  quit  of  her,  for  she 
had  been  forced  to  keep  him  lean  and  half  starved ; 
but  being  a  dog,  and  not  having  a  man's  sense,  he 
was  sorry." 

"It  was  dull  of  the  brute,  certainly,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  "  and  very  like  a  brute." 

Hugh  made  no  rejoinder,  but  whistling  to  his  dog, 
who  sprung  up  at  the  sound,  and  came  jumping  and 
sporting  about  him,  bade  his  sympathizing  friend 
good-night. 


270  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  Good-night,"  he  returned.  "  Eemember ;  you're 
safe  with  me  —  quite  safe.  So  long  as  you  deserve 
it,  my  good  fellow,  as  I  hope  you  always  will,  you 
have  a  friend  in  me,  on  whose  silence  you  may  rely. 
Now  do  be  careful  of  yourself,  pray  do,  and  consider 
what  jeopardy  you  might  have  stood  in.  Good- 
night.    Bless  you ! " 

Hugh  truckled  before  the  hidden  meaning  of  these 
words  as  much  as  such  a  being  could,  and  crept  out 
of  the  door  so  submissively  and  subserviently  — 
with  an  air,  in  short,  so  different  from  that  with 
which  he  had  entered  —  that  his  jjatron,  on  being 
left  alone,  smiled  more  than  ever. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said  as  he  took  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
"  I  do  not  like  their  having  hanged  his  mother. 
The  fellow  has  a  fine  eye,  and  I  am  siire  she  was 
handsome.  But  very  probably  she  was  coarse  — 
red-nosed  perhaps,  and  had  clumsy  feet.  Ay,  it 
was  all  for  the  best,  no  doubt." 

With  this  comforting  reflection,  he  put  on  his 
coat,  took  a  farewell  glance  at  the  glass,  and  sum- 
moned his  man,  who  promptly  attended,  followed 
by  a  chair  and  its  two  bearers. 

"Foh!"  said  Mr.  Chester.  '<The  very  atmos- 
phere that  centaur  has  breathed  seems  tainted  with 
the  cart  and  ladder.  Here,  Peak.  Bring  some  scent 
and  sprinkle  the  floor ;  and  take  away  the  chair  he 
sat  upon  and  air  it ;  and  dash  a  little  of  that  mix- 
ture upon  me.     I  am  stifled ! " 

The  man  obeyed ;  and  the  room  and  its  master 
being  both  purified,  nothing  remained  for  Mr. 
Chester  but  to  demand  his  hat,  to  fold  it  jauntily 
under  his  arm,  to  take  his  seat  in  the  chair,  and  be 
carried  off ;  humming  a  fashionable  tune. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

How  the  accomplished  gentleman  spent  the  even- 
ing in  the  midst  of  a  dazzling  and  brilliant  circle ; 
how  he  enchanted  all  those  with  whom  he  mingled 
by  the  grace  of  his  deportment,  the  politeness  of  his 
manner,  the  vivacity  of  his  conversation,  and  the 
sweetness  of  his  voice ;  how  it  was  observed  in 
every  corner,  that  Chester  was  a  man  of  that 
happy  disposition  that  nothing  ruffled  him,  that 
he  was  one  on  whom  the  world's  cares  and  errors 
sat  lightly  as  his  dress,  and  in  whose  smiling  face  a 
calm  and  tranquil  mind  was  constantly  reflected ; 
how  honest  men,  who  by  instinct  knew  him  better, 
bowed  down  before  him  nevertheless,  deferred  to 
his  every  word,  and  courted  his  favorable  notice ; 
how  people,  who  really  had  good  in  them,  went 
with  the  stream,  and  fawned  and  flattered,  and 
approved,  and  despised  themselves  while  they  did 
so,  and  yet  had  not  the  courage  to  resist ;  how,  in 
short,  he  was  one  of  those  who  are  received  and 
cherished  in  society  (as  the  phrase  is)  by  scores 
who  individually  would  shrink  from  and  be  re- 
pelled by  the  object  of  their  lavish  regard;  are 
things  of  course,  which  will  suggest  themselves. 
Matter  so  commonplace  needs  but  a  passing  glance, 
and  there  an  end. 

271 


272  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

The  despisers  of  mankind  —  apart  from  the  mere 
fools  and  mimics,  of  that  creed  —  are  of  two  sorts. 
They  who  believe  their  merit  neglected  and  unap- 
preciated make  up  one  class ;  they  who  receive 
adulation  and  flattery,  knowing  their  own  worth- 
lessness,  compose  the  other.  Be  sure  that  the 
coldest-hearted  misanthropes  are  ever  of  this  last 
order. 

Mr.  Chester  sat  up  in  bed  next  morning,  sipping 
his  coffee,  and  remembering  with  a  kind  of  con- 
temptuous satisfaction  how  he  had  shone  last  night, 
and  how  he  had  been  caressed  and  courted,  when 
his  servant  brought  in  a  very  small  scrap  of  dirty 
paper,  tightly  sealed  in  two  places,  on  the  inside 
whereof  was  inscribed,  in  pretty  large  text,  these 
words :  "  A  friend.  Desiring  of  a  conference.  Im- 
mediate.    Private.     Burn  it  when  you've  read  it." 

*'  Where  in  the  name  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot  did 
you  pick  up  this  ?  "  said  his  master. 

It  was  given  him  by  a  person  then  waiting  at  the 
door,  the  man  replied. 

''  With  a  cloak  and  dagger  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

With  nothing  more  threatening  about  him,  it 
appeared,  than  a  leather  apron  and  a  dirty  face. 
"  Let  him  come  in."  In  he  came  —  Mr.  Tappertit ; 
with  his  hair  still  on  end,  and  a  great  lock  in  his 
hand,  which  he  put  down  on  the  floor  in  the  middle 
of  the  chamber,  as  if  he  were  about  to  go  through 
some  performances  in  which  it  was  a  necessary 
agent. 

"Sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  with  a  low  bow,  "I 
thank  you  for  this  condescension,  and  am  glad  to 
see  you.  Pardon  the  menial  office  in  which  I  am 
engaged,  sir,  and  extend  your  sympathies  to  one 


BARNABY  RUBGE.  273 

who,  humble  as  his  appearance  is,  has  inn'ard  work- 
ings far  above  his  station." 

Mr.  Chester  held  the  bed-curtain  farther  back, 
and  looked  at  him  with  a  vague  impression  that  he 
was  some  maniac,  who  had  not  only  broken  open 
the  door  of  his  place  of  confinement,  but  had 
brought  away  the  lock.  Mr.  Tappertit  bowed 
again,  and  displayed  his  legs  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. 

"  You  have  heard,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  laying 
his  hand  upon  his  breast,  "  of  G.  Vai-den  Locksmith 
and  Bell-hanger  and  repairs  neatly  executed  in  town 
and  country,  Clerkenwell,  London  ?  " 

"  What  then  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Chester. 

"  I  am  his  'prentice,  sir." 

"  What  then  ?  " 

"  Ahem ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  Would  you  per- 
mit me  to  shut  the  door,  sir,  and  will  you  further, 
sir,  give  me  your  honor  bright  that  what  passes 
between  us  is  in  the  strictest  confidence  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  laid  himself  calmly  down  in  bed  again, 
and  turning  a  perfectly  undisturbed  face  towards  the 
strange  apparition,  which  had  by  this  time  closed 
the  door,  begged  him  to  speak  out,  and  to  be  as 
rational  as  he  could,  without  putting  himself  to  any 
very  great  personal  inconvenience. 

"  In  the  first  place,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  produ- 
cing a  small  pocket-handkerchief,  and  shaking  it  out 
of  the  folds,  "as  I  have  not  a  card  about  me  (for 
the  envy  of  masters  debases  us  below  that  level), 
allow  me  to  oifer  the  best  substitute  that  circum- 
stances will  admit  of.  If  you  will  take  that  in 
your  own  hand,  sir,  and  cast  your  eye  on  the  right- 
hand  corner,"   said  Mr.  Tappertit,  offering  it  with 

VOL.  I.-18. 


274  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

a  graceful  air,  "you  will  meet  with  my  creden- 
tials." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Mr.  Chester,  politely 
accepting,  and  turning  to  some  blood-red  charac- 
ters at  one  end.  " '  Four.  Simon  Tappertit.  One.' 
Is  that  the  —  " 

"Without  the  numbers,  sir,  that  is  my  name," 
replied  the  'prentice.  "  They  are  merely  intended 
as  directions  to  the  washerwoman,  and  have  no  con- 
nection with  myself  or  family.  Your  name,  sir," 
said  Mr.  Tappertit,  looking  very  hard  at  his  night- 
cap, "  is  Chester,  I  suppose  ?  You  needn't  pull  it 
off,  sir,  thank  you.  I  observe  E.  C.  from  here.  We 
will  take  the  rest  for  granted." 

"Pray,  Mr.  Tappertit,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "has 
that  complicated  piece  of  ironmongery  which  you 
have  done  me  the  favor  to  bring  with  you,  any 
immediate  connection  with  the  business  we  are  to 
discuss  ?  " 

"It  has  not,  sir,"  rejoined  the  'prentice.  "It's 
going  to  be  fitted  on  a  ware'us  door  in  Thames 
Street." 

"  Perhaps,  as  that  is  the  case,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
"  and  as  it  has  a  stronger  flavor  of  oil  than  I  usually 
refresh  my  bedroom  with,  you  will  oblige  me  so  far 
as  to  put  it  outside  the  door  ?  " 

"  By  all  means,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word. 

"  You'll  excuse  ray  mentioning  it,  I  hope  ?  " 

"Don't  apologize,  sir,  I  beg.  And  now,  if  you 
please,  to  business." 

During  the  whole  of  this  dialogue  Mr.  Chester 
had  suffered  nothing  but  his  smile  of  unvarying 
serenity  and  politeness  to  aj^pear  upon   his   face. 


BARNABY  RIJDGE.  275 

Sim  Tappertit,  who  had  far  too  good  an  opinion  of 
himself  to  suspect  that  anybody  could  be  playing 
upon  him,  thought  within  himself  that  this  was 
something  like  the  respect  to  which  he  was  en- 
titled, and  drew  a  comparison,  from  this  courteous 
demeanor  of  a  stranger,  by  no  means  favorable  to 
the  worthy  locksmith. 

"  From  what  passes  in  our  house,"  said  Mr,  Tap- 
pertit, "I  am  aware,  sir,  that  your  son  keeps  com- 
pany with  a  young  lady  against  your  inclinations. 
Sir,  your  son  has  not  used  me  well." 

"  Mr.  Tappertit,"  said  the  other,  "  you  grieve  me 
beyond  description." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  replied  the  'prentice.  "I'm 
glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  He's  very  proud,  sir,  is 
your  son ;  very  haughty." 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  haughty,"  said  Mr.  Chester. 
"  Do  you  know,  I  was  really  afraid  of  that  before ; 
and  you  confirm  me." 

"  To  recount  the  menial  offices  I've  had  to  do  for 
your  son,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit ;  "  the  chairs  I've 
had  to  hand  him,  the  coaches  I've  had  to  call  for 
him  ;  the  numerous  degrading  duties,  wholly  uncon- 
nected with  my  indenters,  that  I've  had  to  do  for 
him,  would  fill  a  family  Bible.  Besides  which,  sir, 
he  is  but  a  young  man  himself,  and  I  do  not  con- 
sider 'Thankee,  Sim,'  a  proper  form  of  address  on 
those  occasions." 

"Mr.  Tappertit,  your  wisdom  is  beyond  your 
years.     Pray  go  on." 

"I  thank  you  for  your  good  opinion,  sir,"  said 
Sim,  much  gratified,  "and  will  endeavor  so  to  do. 
Now,  sir,  on  this  account  (and  perhaps  for  another 
reason  or  two  which  I  needn't  go  into),  I  am  on 


276  BAKNABY  KUDGE. 

your  side.  And  what  I  tell  you  is  this  —  that  as 
long  as  our  people  go  backwards  and  forwards,  to 
and  fro,  up  and  down,  to  that  there  jolly  old  May- 
pole, lettering  and  messaging,  and  fetching  and  car- 
rying, you  couldn't  help  your  son  keeping  company 
with  that  young  lady  by  deputy,  —  not  if  he  was 
minded  night  and  day  by  all  the  Horse  Guards,  and 
every  man  of  'em  in  the  very  fullest  uniform." 

Mr.  Tappertit  stopped  to  take  breath  after  this, 
and  then  started  fresh  again. 

"  Now,  sir,  I  am  a-coming  to  the  point.  You  will 
inquire  of  me,  *  How  is  this  to  be  prevented  ?  '  I'll 
tell  you  how.  If  an  honest,  civil,  smiling  gentle- 
man like  you  —  " 

"  Mr.  Tappertit  —  really  —  " 

"  No,  no,  I'm  serious,"  rejoined  the  'prentice  ;  "  I 
am,  upon  my  soul.  If  an  honest,  civil,  smiling  gen- 
tleman like  you  was  to  talk  but  ten  minutes  to  our 
old  woman  —  that's  Mrs.  Varden  —  and  flatter  her 
up  a  bit,  you'd  gain  her  over  forever.  Then 
there's  this  point  got  —  that  her  daughter  Dolly  " 
—  here  a  flush  came  over  Mr.  Tappertit's  face  — 
"wouldn't  be  allowed  to  be  a  go-between  from  that 
time  forward ;  and  till  that  point's  got,  there's  noth- 
ing ever  will  prevent  her.     Mind  that." 

"  Mr.  Tappertit,  your  knowledge  of  human  na- 
ture —  " 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Sim,  folding  his  arms  with 
a  dreadful  calmness.  "  Now  I  come  to  the  point. 
Sir,  there  is  a  villain  at  that  Maypole,  a  monster  in 
human  shape,  a  vagabond  of  the  deepest  dye,  that 
unless  you  get  rid  of,  and  have  kidnapped  and  car- 
ried off  at  the  very  least  —  nothing  less  will  do  — 
will  marry  your  son  to  that  young  woman,  as  cer- 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  277 

tainly  and  surely  as  if  he  was  the  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  himself.  He  will,  sir,  for  the  hatred 
and  malice  that  he  bears  to  you;  let  alone  the 
pleasure  of  doing  a  bad  action,  which  to  him  is  its 
own  reward.  If  you  knew  how  this  chap,  this 
Joseph  Willet  —  that's  his  name  —  comes  back- 
wards and  forwards  to  our  house,  libelling  and  de- 
nouncing, and  threatening  you,  and  how  I  sluidder 
when  I  hear  him,  you'd  hate  him  worse  than  I  do 
—  worse  than  I  do,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit  wildly, 
putting  his  hair  up  straighter,  and  making  a  crunch- 
ing noise  with  his  teeth ;  "  if  sich  a  thing  is  pos- 
sible." 

*'  A  little  private  vengeance  in  this,  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit  ?  " 

"  Private  vengeance,  sir,  or  public  sentiment,  or 
both  combined  —  destroy  him,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 
"  Miggs  says  so  too.  Miggs  and  me  both  say  so. 
We  can't  bear  the  plotting  and  undermining  that 
takes  place.  Our  souls  recoil  from  it.  Barnaby 
Rudge  and  IVtrs.  Eudge  are  in  it  likewise ;  but  the 
villain,  Joseph  Willet,  is  the  ringleader.  Their 
plottings  and  schemes  are  known  to  me  and  Miggs. 
If  you  want  information  of  'em,  apply  to  us.  Put 
Joseph  Willet  down,  sir.  Destroy  him.  Crush 
him.     And  be  happy." 

With  these  words,  Mr.  Tappertit,  who  seemed  to 
expect  no  reply,  and  to  hold  it  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence of  his  eloquence  that  his  hearer  should  be 
utterly  stunned,  dumfoundered,  and  overwhelmed, 
folded  his  arms  so  that  the  palm  of  each  hand 
rested  on  the  opposite  shoulder,  and  disappeared 
after  the  manner  of  those  mysterious  warners  of 
whom  he  had  read  in  cheap  story-books. 


278  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  That  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  relaxing  his  face 
when  he  was  fairly  gone,  "is  good  practice.  I  have 
some  command  of  my  features,  beyond  all  doubt. 
He  fully  confirms  what  I  suspected,  though ;  and 
blunt  tools  are  sometimes  found  of  use,  where 
sharper  instruments  would  fail.  I  fear  I  may  be 
obliged  to  make  great  havoc  among  these  worthy  peo- 
ple. A  troublesome  necessity !  I  quite  feel  for 
them." 

With  that  he  fell  into  a  quiet  slumber :  —  subsided 
into  such  a  gentle,  pleasant  sleep,  that  it  was  quite 
infantine. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Leaving  the  favored,  and  well-received,  and  flat- 
tered of  the  world ;  him  of  the  world  most  worldly, 
who  never  compromised  himself  by  an  ungentle- 
manly  action,  and  never  was  guilty  of  a  manly  one  ; 
to  lie  smilingly  asleep  —  for  even  sleep,  working 
but  little  change  in  his  dissembling  face,  became 
with  him  a  piece  of  cold,  conventional  hypocrisy  — 
we  follow  in  the  steps  of  two  slow  travellers  oa 
foot,  making  towards  Chigwell. 

Barnaby  and  his  mother.  Grip  in  their  company, 
of  course. 

The  widow,  to  whom  each  painful  mile  seemed 
longer  than  the  last,  toiled  wearily  along;  while 
Barnaby,  yielding  to  every  inconstant  impulse,  flut- 
tered here  and  there,  now  leaving  her  far  behind, 
now  lingering  far  behind  himself,  now  darting  into 
some  by -lane  or  path  and  leaving  her  to  pursue  her 
way  alone,  until  he  stealthily  emerged  again  and 
came  upon  her  with  a  wild  shout  of  merriment,  as 
his  wayward  and  capricious  nature  prompted.  Xow 
he  would  call  to  her  from  the  topmost  branch  of 
some  high  tree  by  the  roadside  ;  now,  using  his  tall 
staff  as  a  leaping-pole,  come  flying  over  ditch  or 
hedge  or  five-barred  gate ;  now  nin  with  surprising 
swiftness  for  a  mile  or  more  on  the  straight  road, 
279 


280  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

and  halting,  sport  upon  a  patch  of  grass  with  Grip 
till  she  came  up.  These  were  his  delights ;  and 
when  his  patient  mother  heard  his  merry  voice,  or 
looked  into  his  flushed  and  healthy  face,  she  would 
not  have  abated  them  by  one  sad  word  or  murmur, 
though  each  had  been  to  her  a  source  of  suffering 
in  the  same  degree  as  it  was  to  him  of  pleasure. 

It  is  something  to  look  upon  enjoyment,  so  that 
it  be  free  and  wild  and  in  the  face  of  nature,  though 
it  is  but  the  enjoyment  of  an  idiot.  It  is  something 
to  know  that  heaven  has  left  the  capacity  of  glad- 
ness in  such  a  creature's  breast ;  it  is  something  to 
be  assured  that,  however  lightly  men  may  crush 
that  faculty  in  their  fellows,  the  Great  Creator  of 
mankind  imparts  it  even  to  his  despised  and 
slighted  work.  Who  would  not  rather  see  a  poor 
idiot  happy  in  the  sunlight  than  a  wise  man  pining 
in  a  darkened  jail  ? 

Ye  men  of  gloom  and  austerity,  who  paint  the 
face  of  Infinite  Benevolence  with  an  eternal  frown, 
read  in  the  Everlasting  Book,  wide  open  to  your 
view,  the  lesson  it  would  teach.  Its  pictures  are 
not  in  black  and  sombre  hues,  but  bright  and  glow- 
ing tints;  its  music  —  save  when  ye  drown  it — is 
not  in  sighs  and  groans,  but  songs  and  cheerful 
sounds.  Listen  to  the  million  voices  in  the  summer 
air,  and  find  one  dismal  as  your  own.  Remember, 
if  ye  can,  the  sense  of  hope  and  pleasure  which 
every  glad  return  of  day  awakens  in  the  breast  of 
all  your  kind  who  have  not  changed  their  nature ; 
and  learn  some  wisdom  even  from  the  witless,  when 
their  hearts  are  lifted  up,  they  know  not  why,  by 
all  the  mirth  and  happiness  it  brings. 

The  widow's  breast  was  full  of  care,  was  laden 


BAENABY  EUTGE.  281 

heavily  with  secret  dread  and  sorrow ;  but  her  boy's 
gayety  of  heart  gladdened  her,  and  beguiled  the 
long  journey.  Sometimes  he  would  bid  her  lean 
upon  his  arm,  and  would  keep  beside  her  steadily 
for  a  short  distance ;  but  it  was  more  his  nature  to 
be  rambling  to  and  fro,  and  she  better  liked  to  see 
him  free  and  happy,  even  than  to  have  him  near 
her,  because  she  loved  him  better  than  herself. 

She  had  quitted  the  place  to  which  they  were 
travelling  directly  after  the  event  Avhich  had 
changed  her  whole  existence ;  and  for  two  and 
twenty  years  had  never  had  courage  to  revisit  it. 
It  was  her  native  village.  How  many  recollections 
crowded  on  her  mind  when  it  appeared  in  sight ! 

Two  and  twenty  years.  Her  boy's  whole  life  and 
history.  The  last  time  she  looked  back  upon  those 
roofs  among  the  trees,  she  carried  him  in  her  arms, 
an  infant.  How  often  since  that  time  had  she  sat 
beside  him  night  and  day,  watching  for  the  dawn  of 
mind  that  never  came ;  how  had  she  feared,  and 
doubted,  and  yet  hoped,  long  after  conviction  forced 
itself  upon  her !  The  little  stratagems  she  had  de- 
vised to  try  him,  the  little  tokens  he  had  given  in 
his  childish  Avay  —  not  of  dulness,  but  of  something 
infinitely  worse,  so  ghastly  and  unchildlike  in  its 
cunning  —  came  back  as  vividly  as  if  but  yesterday 
had  intervened.  The  room  in  which  they  used  to 
be ;  the  spot  in  which  his  cradle  stood ;  he  old  and 
elfin-like  in  face,  but  ever  dear  to  her,  gazing  at  her 
with  a  wild  and  vacant  eye,  and  crooning  some  un- 
couth song  as  she  sat  by  and  rocked  him ;  every  cir- 
cumstance of  his  infancy  came  thronging  back,  and 
the  most  trivial,  perhaps,  the  most  distinctly. 

His  older  childhood,  too  ;  the  strange  imaginings 


282  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

he  had;  his  terror  of  certain  senseless  things  — 
familiar  objects  he  endowed  with  life ;  the  slow  and 
gradual  breaking-out  of  that  one  horror  in  which, 
before  his  birth,  his  darkened  intellect  began  ;  how, 
in  the  midst  of  all,  she  had  found  some  hope  and 
comfort  in  his  being  unlike  another  child,  and  had 
gone  on  almost  believing  in  the  slow  development 
of  his  mind  until  he  grew  a  man,  and  then  his  child- 
hood was  complete  and  lasting ;  one  after  another, 
all  these  old  thoughts  sprung  up  within  her,  strong 
after  their  long  slumber,  and  bitterer  than  ever. 

She  took  his  arm,  and  they  hurried  through  the 
village  street.  It  was  the  same  as  it  was  wont  to 
be  in  old  times,  yet  different  too,  and  wore  another 
air.  The  change  was  in  herself,  not  it ;  but  she 
never  thought  of  that,  and  wondered  at  its  altera- 
tion, and  where  it  lay,  and  what  it  was. 

The  people  all  knew  Barnaby,  and  the  children  of 
the  place  came  flocking  round  him  —  as  she  remem- 
bered to  have  done  with  their  fathers  and  mothers, 
round  some  silly  beggarman,  when  a  child  herself. 
None  of  them  knew  her;  they  passed  each  well- 
remembered  house,  and  yard,  and  homestead;  and 
striking  into  the  fields,  Avere  soon  alone  again. 

The  Warren  was  the  end  of  their  journey.  Mr. 
Haredale  was  walking  in  the  garden,  and  seeing 
them  as  they  passed  the  iron  gate,  unlocked  it,  and 
bade  them  enter  that  way. 

"  At  length  you  have  mustered  heart  to  visit  the 
old  place,"  he  said  to  the  widow.  ''  I  am  glad  you 
have." 

"  For  the  first  time,  and  the  last,  sir,"  she  replied. 

*'  The  first  for  many  years,  but  not  the  last  ?  " 

''  The  very  last." 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  283 

"  You  mean,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  regarding  her 
with  some  surprise,  "  that  having  made  this  effort, 
you  are  resolved  not  to  persevere,  and  are  deter- 
mined to  relapse  ?  This  is  unworthy  of  you.  I 
have  often  told  you,  you  should  return  here.  You 
would  be  happier  here  than  elsewhere,  I  know.  As 
to  Barnaby,  it's  quite  his  home." 

"  And  Grip's,"  said  Barnaby,  holding  the  basket 
open.  The  raven  hopped  gravely  out,  and  perching 
on  his  shoulder  and  addressing  himself  to  Mr.  Hare- 
dale,  cried  —  as  a  hint,  perhaps,  tliat  some  temperate 
refreshment  would  be  acceptable  —  "  Polly  put  the 
ket-tle  on,  we'll  all  have  tea  ! " 

"Hear  me,  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  kindly,  as 
he  motioned  her  to  walk  with  him  towards  the 
house.  "  Your  life  has  been  an  example  of  patience 
and  fortitude,  except  in  this  one  particular,  which 
has  often  given  me  great  pain.  It  is  enough  to 
know  that  you  were  cruelly  involved  in  the  calamity 
which  deprived  me  of  an  only  brother,  and  Emma 
of  her  father,  without  being  obliged  to  suppose  (as 
I  sometimes  am)  that  you  associate  us  with  the 
author  of  our  joint  misfortunes." 

"  Associate  you  with  him,  sir  !  "  she  cried. 

"Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "I  think  you  do. 
I  almost  believe  that  because  your  husband  was 
bound  by  so  many  ties  to  our  relation,  and  died  in 
his  service  and  defence,  you  have  come  in  some  sort 
to  connect  us  with  his  murder." 

"  Alas  !  "  she  answered.  "  You  little  know  my 
heart,  sir.     You  little  know  the  truth !  " 

"  It  is  natural  you  should  do  so ;  it  is  very  prob- 
able you  may,  without  being  conscious  of  it,"  said 
Mr.  Haredale,  speaking  more  to  himself  than  her. 


284  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"We  are  a  fallen  house.  Money,  dispensed  with 
the  most  lavish  hand,  would  be  a  poor  recompense 
for  sufferings  like  yours ;  and  thinly  scattered  by 
hands  so  pinched  and  tied  as  ours,  it  becomes  a 
miserable  mockery.  I  feel  it  so,  God  knows,"  he 
added  hastily.  "  Why  should  I  wonder  if  she 
does  ?  " 

"  You  do  me  wrong,  dear  sir,  indeed,"  she  rejoined 
with  great  earnestness  ;  "  and  yet,  when  you  come 
to  hear  what  I  desire  your  leave  to  say  — " 

"  I  shall  find  my  doubts  confirmed  ? "  he  said, 
observing  that  she  faltered  and  became  confused. 
"  Well  ?  " 

He  quickened  his  pace  for  a  few  steps,  but  fell 
back  again  to  her  side,  and  said,  — 

"  And  have  you  come  all  this  way  at  last,  solely 
to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

She  answered,  "  Yes." 

"  A  curse,"  he  muttered,  "  upon  the  wretched  state 
of  us  proud  beggars,  from  whom  the  poor  and  rich 
are  equally  at  a  distance ;  the  one  being  forced  to 
treat  us  with  a  show  of  cold  respect ;  the  other  con- 
descending to  us  in  their  every  deed  and  word,  and 
keeping  more  aloof  the  nearer  they  approach  us  !  — 
Why,  if  it  were  pain  to  you  (as  it  must  have  been) 
to  break  for  this  slight  purpose  the  chain  of  habit 
forged  through  two  and  twent}"-  years,  could  you  not 
let  me  know  your  wish,  and  beg  me  to  come  to  you  ?  " 

''There  was  not  time,  sir,"  she  rejoined.  "I  took 
my  resolution  but  last  night,  and  taking  it,  felt  that 
I  must  not  lose  a  day  —  a  day  !  an  hour  —  in  having 
speech  with  you." 

They  had  by  this  time  reached  the  house.  Mr. 
Haredale  paused  for  a  moment,  and  looked  at  her  as 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  285 

if  surprised  by  the  energy  of  her  manner.  Observ- 
ing, however,  that  she  took  no  heed  of  him,  but 
glanced  up,  shuddering,  at  the  old  walls  with  which 
such  horrors  were  connected  in  her  mind,  he  led  her 
by  a  private  stair  into  his  library,  where  Emma  was 
seated  in  a  window,  reading. 

The  young  lady,  seeing  who  approached,  hastily 
rose  and  laid  aside  her  book,  and  with  many  kind 
words,  and  not  without  tears,  gave  her  a  warm  and 
earnest  welcome.  But  the  widow  shrunk  from  her 
embrace  as  though  she  feared  her,  and  sunk  down 
trembling  on  a  chair. 

"  It  is  the  return  to  this  place  after  so  long  an 
absence,"  said  Emma  gently.  "  Pray  ring,  dear 
uncle  —  or  stay  —  Barnaby  will  run  himself  and  ask 
for  wine  —  " 

''Not  for  the  world,"  she  cried.  "  It  would  have 
another  taste  —  I  could  not  touch  it.  I  want  but  a 
minute's  rest.     Nothing  but  that." 

Miss  Haredale  stood  beside  her  chair,  regarding 
her  with  silent  pity.  She  remained  for  a  little  time 
quite  still ;  then  rose  and  turned  to  Mr.  Haredale, 
who  had  sat  down  in  his  easy-chair,  and  was  con- 
templating her  with  fixed  attention. 

The  tale  connected  Avith  the  mansion  borne  in 
mind,  it  seemed,  as  has  been  already  said,  the  chosen 
theatre  for  such  a  deed  as  it  had  known.  The  room 
m  which  this  group  were  now  assembled  —  hard  by 
the  very  chamber  where  the  act  was  done  —  dull, 
dark,  and  sombre  ;  heavy  with  worm-eaten  books ; 
deadened  and  shut  m  by  faded  hangings,  muflfling 
every  sound ;  shadowed  mournfully  by  trees  whose 
rustling  boughs  gave  ever  and  anon  a  spectral  knock- 
ing at  the  glass ;    wore,  beyond  all  others  in  the 


286  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

house,  a  ghostly,  gloomy  air.  Nor  were  the  group 
assembled  there  unfitting  tenants  of  the  spot.  The 
widow,  with  her  marked  and  startling  face  and 
downcast  eyes  ;  Mr.  Haredale,  stern  and  despondent 
ever ;  his  niece  beside  him,  like,  yet  most  unlike, 
the  picture  of  her  father,  which  gazed  reproachfully 
down  upon  them  from  the  blackened  wall ;  Barnaby, 
with  his  vacant  look  and  restless  eye ;  were  all  in 
keeping  with  the  place,  and  actors  in  the  legend. 
Nay,  the  very  raven,  who  had  hopped  upon  the 
table,  and  with  the  air  of  some  old  necromancer 
appeared  to  be  profoundly  studying  a-  great  folio 
volume  that  lay  open  on  a  desk,  was  strictly  in 
unison  Avith  the  rest,  and  looked  like  the  embodied 
spirit  of  evil  biding  his  time  of  mischief. 

"  I  scarcely  know,"  said  the  widow,  breaking 
silence,  "how  to  begin.  You  will  think  my  mind 
disordered." 

"  The  whole  tenor  of  your  quiet  and  reproachless 
life  since  you  were  last  here,"  returned  Mr.  Hare- 
dale  mildly,  "  shall  bear  witness  for  you.  Why  do 
you  fear  to  awaken  such  a  suspicion  ?  You  do  not 
speak  to  strangers.  You  have  not  to  claim  our  in- 
terest or  consideration  for  the  first  time.  Be  more 
yourself.  Take  heart.  Any  advice  or  assistance 
that  I  can  give  you,  you  know  is  yours  of  right,  and 
freely  yours." 

"  What  if  I  came,  sir,"  she  rejoined,  "  I  who  have 
but  one  other  friend  on  earth,  to  reject  your  aid 
from  this  moment,  and  to  say  that  henceforth  I 
launch  myself  upon  the  world  alone  and  unassisted, 
to  sink  or  swim  as  Heaven  may  decree  ?  " 

"  You  would  have,  if  you  came  to  me  for  such  a 
purpose,"  said  Mr.  Haredale  calmly,  "some  reason 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  287 

to  assign  for  conduct  so  extraordinary,  which  —  if 
one  may  entertain  the  possibility  of  anything  so 
wild  and  strange  —  would  have  its  weight,  of 
course." 

"  That,  sir,"  she  answered,  "  is  the  misery  of  my 
distress.  I  can  give  no  reason  whatever.  My  own 
bare  word  is  all  that  I  can  offer.  It  is  my  duty,  my 
imperative  and  bounden  duty.  If  I  did  not  discharge 
it,  I  should  be  a  base  and  guilty  wretch.  Having 
said  that,  my  lips  are  sealed,  and  I  can  say  no 
more." 

As  though  she  felt  relieved  at  having  said  so 
much,  and  had  nerved  herself  to  the  remainder  of 
her  task,  she  spoke  from  this  time  with  a  firmer 
voice  and  heightened  courage. 

''  Heaven  is  my  witness,  as  my  own  heart  is  — 
and  yours,  dear  young  lady,  will  speak  for  me,  I 
know  —  that  I  have  lived,  since  that  time  we  have 
all  bitter  reason  to  remember,  in  unchanging  devo- 
tion and  gratitude  to  this  family.  Heaven  is  my 
witness  that,  go  where  I  may,  I  shall  preserve  those 
feelings  unimpaii-ed.  And  it  is  my  witness,  too, 
that  they  alone  impel  me  to  the  course  I  must  take, 
and  from  which  nothing  now  shall  turn  me,  as  I 
hope  for  mercy." 

"  These  are  strange  riddles,"  said  Mr.  Haredale. 

"  In  this  world,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  they  may,  per- 
haps, never  be  explained.  In  another,  the  Truth 
will  be  discovered  in  its  own  good  time.  And  may 
that  time,"  she  added  in  a  low  voice,  "  be  far  dis- 
tant ! " 

"  Let  me  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  "  that  I  un- 
derstand you,  for  I  am  doubtful  of  my  own  senses. 
Do  you  mean  that  you  are  resolved  voluntarily  to 


288  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

deprive  yourself  of  those  means  of  support  you  have 
received  from  us  so  long  —  that  you  are  determined 
to  resign  the  annuity  we  settled  on  you  twenty 
years  ago  —  to  leave  house,  and  home,  and  goods, 
and  begin  life  anew  —  and  this  for  some  secret  rea- 
son or  monstrous  fancy  which  is  incapable  of  expla- 
nation, which  only  now  exists,  and  has  been  dormant 
all  this  time  ?  In  the  name  of  God,  under  what 
delusion  are  you  laboring  ?  " 

"As  I  am  deeply  thankful,"  she  made  answer, 
"for  the  kindness  of  those,  alive  and  dead,  who 
have  owned  this  house ;  and  as  I  would  not  have  its 
roof  fall  down  and  crush  me,  or  its  very  walls  drip 
blood,  my  name  being  spoken  in  their  hearing;  I 
never  will  again  subsist  upon  their  bounty,  or  let  it 
help  me  to  subsistence.  You  do  not  know,"  she 
added  suddenly,  "  to  what  uses  it  may  be  applied  ; 
into  what  hands  it  may  pass.  I  do,  and  I  renounce 
it." 

"  Surely,"  said  INIr.  Haredale,  "  its  uses  rest  with 
you." 

"They  did.  They  rest  with  me  no  longer.  It 
may  be  —  it  is  —  devoted  to  purposes  that  mock  the 
dead  in  their  graves.  It  never  can  prosper  with  me. 
It  will  bring  some  other  heavy  judgment  on  the 
head  of  my  dear  son,  whose  innocence  will  suffer 
for  his  mother's  guilt." 

"  What  words  are  these  ? "  cried  Mr.  Haredale, 
regarding  her  with  wonder.  "  Among  what  asso- 
ciates have  you  fallen  ?  Into  what  guilt  have  you 
ever  been  betrayed  ?  " 

"  I  am  guilty,  and  yet  innocent ;  wrong,  yet  right ; 
good  in  intention,  though  constrained  to  shield  and 
aid  the  bad.     Ask  me  no  more  questions,  sir ;  but 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  289 

believe  that  I  am  rather  to  be  pitied  than  con- 
demned. I  must  leave  my  house  to-morrow,  for 
while  I  stay  there,  it  is  haunted.  My  future  dwell- 
ing, if  I  am  to  live  in  peace,  must  be  a  secret.  If 
my  poor  boy  should  ever  stray  this  way,  do  not 
tempt  him  to  disclose  it,  or  have  him  watched  when 
he  returns ;  for  if  we  are  hunted,  we  must  fly  again. 
And  now  this  load  is  off  my  mind,  I  beseech  you  — 
and  you,  dear  jMiss  Haredale,  too  —  to  trust  me  if 
you  can,  and  think  of  me  kindly  as  you  have  been 
used  to  do.  If  I  die,  and  cannot  tell  my  secret  even 
then  (for  that  may  come  to  pass),  it  will  sit  the 
lighter  on  my  breast  in  that  hour  for  this  day's 
work ;  and  on  that  day,  and  every  day  until  it 
comes,  I  will  pray  for  and  thank  you  both,  and 
trouble  you  no  more." 

With  that  she  would  have  left  them,  but  they 
detained  her,  and  with  many  soothing  words  and 
kind  entreaties  besought  her  to  consider  what  she 
did,  and  above  all  to  repose  more  freely  upon  them, 
and  say  what  weighed  so  sorely  ou  her  mind.  Find- 
ing her  deaf  to  their  persuasions,  Mr.  Haredale  sug- 
gested, as  a  last  resource,  that  she  should  confide  in 
Emma,  of  whom,  as  a  young  person,  and  one  of  her 
own  sex,  she  might  stand  in  less  dread  than  of  him- 
self. From  this  proposal,  however,  she  recoiled  with 
the  same  indescribable  repugnance  she  had  mani- 
fested when  they  met.  The  utmost  that  could  be 
wrung  from  her  was  a  promise  that  she  would  re- 
ceive Mr.  Haredale  at  her  own  house  next  evening, 
and  in  the  mean  time  reconsider  her  determination 
and  their  dissuasions  —  though  any  change  on  her 
part,  as  she  told  them,  was  quite  hopeless.  This 
condition  made  at  last,  they  reluctantly  suffered  her 

VOL.  I.-19. 


290  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

to  depart,  since  she  would  neither  eat  nor  drink 
within  the  house  ;  and  she,  and  Barnaby,  and  Grip 
accordingly  went  out  as  they  had  come,  by  the  pri- 
vate stair  and  garden-gate;  seeing  and  being  seen 
of  no  one  by  the  way. 

It  was  remarkable  in  the  raven  that  during  the 
whole  interview  he  had  kept  his  eye  on  his  book 
with  exactly  the  air  of  a  very  sly  human  rascal,  who, 
under  the  mask  of  pretending  to  read  hard,  was 
listening  to  everything.  He  still  appeared  to  have 
the  conversation  very  strongly  in  his  mind,  for  al- 
though, when  they  were  alone  again,  he  issued 
orders  for  the  instant  preparation  of  innumerable 
kettles  for  purposes  of  tea,  he  was  thoughtful,  and 
rather  seemed  to  do  so  from  an  abstract  sense  of 
duty  than  with  any  regard  to  making  himself  agree- 
able, or  being  what  is  commonly  called  good  com- 
pany. 

They  were  to  return  by  the  coach.  As  there  was 
an  interval  of  full  two  hours  before  it  started,  and 
they  needed  rest  and  some  refreshment,  Barnaby 
begged  hard  for  a  visit  to  the  Maypole.  But  his 
mother,  who  had  no  wish  to  be  recognized  by  any  of 
those  who  had  known  her  long  ago,  and  who  feared, 
besides,  that  Mr.  Haredale  might,  on  second  thoughts, 
despatch  some  messenger  to  that  place  of  entertain- 
ment in  quest  of  her,  proposed  to  wait  in  the  church- 
yard instead.  As  it  was  easy  for  Barnaby  to  buy 
and  carry  thither  such  humble  viands  as  they  re- 
quired, he  cheerfully  assented,  and  in  the  church- 
yard they  sat  down  to  take  their  frugal  dinner. 

Here,  again,  the  raven  was  in  a  highly  reflective 
state ;  walking  up  and  down,  when  he  had  dined,  with 
an  air  of  elderly  complacency  which  was  strongly 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  291 

suggestive  of  his  having  his  hands  under  his  coat- 
tails  ;  and  appearing  to  read  the  tombstones  with  a 
very  critical  taste.  Sometimes,  after  a  long  inspec- 
tion of  an  epitaph,  he  would  strop  his  beak  upon 
the  grave  to  which  it  referred,  and  cry  in  his  hoarse 
tones,  "  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil,  I'm  a  devil ! "  but 
whether  he  addressed  his  observations  to  any  sup- 
posed person  below,  or  merely  threw  them  off  as  a 
general  remark,  is  matter  of  uncertainty. 

It  was  a  quiet  pretty  spot,  but  a  sad  one  for 
Barnaby's  mother;  for  Mr.  Reuben  Haredale  lay 
there,  and  near  the  vault  in  which  his  ashes  rested 
was  a  stone  to  the  memory  of  her  own  husband,  with 
a  brief  inscription  recording  how  and  when  he  had 
lost  his  life.  She  sat  here,  thoughtful  and  apart, 
until  their  time  was  out,  and  the  distant  horn  told 
that  the  coach  was  coming. 

Barnaby,  who  had  been  sleeping  on  the  grass, 
sprung  up  quickly  at  the  sound ;  and  Grip,  who 
appeared  to  understand  it  equally  well,  walked  into 
his  basket  straightway,  entreating  society  in  gen- 
eral (as  though  he  intended  a  kind  of  satire  upon 
them  in  connection  with  churchyards)  never  to  say 
die  on  any  terms.  They  were  soon  on  the  coach-top 
and  rolling  along  the  road. 

It  went  round  by  the  Maypole,  and  stopped  at  the 
door.  Joe  was  from  home,  and  Hugh  came  slug- 
gishly out  to  hand  up  the  parcel  that  it  called  for. 
There  was  no  fear  of  old  John  coming  out.  They 
could  see  him  from  the  coach  roof  fast  asleep  in  his 
cosey  bar.  It  was  a  part  of  John's  character.  He 
made  a  point  of  going  to  sleep  at  the  coach's  time. 
He  despised  gadding  about ;  he  looked  upon  coaches 
as  things  that  ought  to  be  indicted ;  as  disturbers  of 


292  BAENABY  KUDGE. 

the  peace  of  mankind;  as  restless,  bustling,  busy, 
horn-blowing  contrivances,  quite  beneath  the  dig- 
nity of  men,  and  only  suited  to  giddy  girls  that  did 
nothing  but  chatter  and  go  a  shopping.  "  We  know 
nothing  about  coaches  here,  sir,"  John  would  say, 
if  any  unlucky  stranger  made  inquiry  touching  the 
offensive  vehicles ;  "  we  don't  book  for  'em ;  we'd 
rather  not ;  they're  more  trouble  than  they're  worth, 
with  their  noise  and  rattle.  If  you  like  to  wait  for 
'em  you  can;  but  we  don't  know  anything  about 
'em;  they  may  call,  and  they  may  not  —  there's  a 
carrier  —  he  was  looked  upon  as  quite  good  enough 
for  us  when  /  was  a  boy." 

She  dropped  her  veil  as  Hugh  climbed  up,  and 
while  he  hung  behind  and  talked  to  Barnaby  in 
whispers.  But  neither  he  nor  any  other  person 
spoke  to  her,  or  noticed  her,  or  had  any  curiosity 
about  her;  and  so,  an  alien,  she  visited  and  left 
the  village  where  she  had  been  born,  and  had  lived 
a  merry  child,  a  comely  girl,  a  happy  wife  —  where 
she  had  known  all  her  enjoyment  of  life,  and  had 
entered  on  its  hardest  sorrows. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"And  you're  not  surprised  to  hear  this,  Var- 
den?"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "Well!  You  and  she 
have  always  been  the  best  friends,  and  you  should 
understand  her,  if  anybody  does." 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  sir,"  rejoined  the  locksmith. 
"I  didn't  say  I  understood  her.  I  wouldn't  have 
the  presumption  to  say  that  of  any  woman.  It's 
not  so  easily  done.  But  I  am  not  so  much  surprised, 
sir,  as  you  expected  me  to  be,  certainly." 

"  May  I  ask  why  not,  my  good  friend  ?  " 

"I  have  seen,  sir,"  returned  the  locksmith  with 
evident  reluctance,  "  I  have  seen,  in  connection  with 
her,  something  that  has  filled  me  with  distrust  and 
uneasiness.  She  has  made  bad  friends — how,  or 
when,  I  don't  know ;  but  that  her  house  is  a  refuge 
for  one  robber  and  cut-throat,  at  least,  I  am  certain. 
There,  sir !     Now  it's  out." 

"  Varden ! " 

"  My  own  eyes,  sir,  are  my  witnesses,  and  for  her 
sake  I  would  be  willingly  half  blind,  if  I  could  but 
have  the  pleasure  of  mistrusting  'em.  I  have  kept 
the  secret  till  now,  and  it  will  go  no  further  than 
yourself,  I  know ;  but  I  tell  you  that  with  my  own 
eyes  —  broad  awake  —  I  saw,  in  the  passage  of  her 
house  one  evening  after  dark,  the  highwayman  who 
293 


294  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

robbed  and  wounded  Mr.  Edward  Chester,  and  on 
the  same  night  threatened  me." 

"  And  you  made  no  effort  to  detain  him  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Hai-edale  quickly. 

"  Sir,"  returned  the  locksmith,  '^  she  herself  pre- 
vented me  —  held  me  with  all  her  strength,  and  hung 
about  me  until  he  had  got  clear  off."  And,  having 
gone  so  far,  he  related  circumstantially  all  that  had 
passed  upon  the  night  in  question. 

This  dialogue  was  held  in  a  low  tone  in  the  lock- 
smith's little  parlor,  into  which  honest  Gabriel  had 
shown  his  visitor  on  his  arrival.  ]Mr.  Haredale  had 
called  upon  him  to  entreat  his  company  to  the 
widow's,  that  he  might  have  the  assistance  of  his 
persuasion  and  influence ;  and  out  of  this  circum- 
stance the  conversation  had  arisen. 

"I  forbore,"  said  Gabriel,  "from  repeating  one 
word  of  this  to  anybody,  as  it  could  do  her  no  good, 
and  might  do  her  great  harm.  I  thought  and  hoped, 
to  say  the  truth,  that  she  would  come  to  me,  and 
talk  to  me  about  it,  and  tell  me  how  it  was;  but 
though  I  have  purposely  put  myself  in  her  way 
more  than  once  or  twice,  she  has  never  touched 
upon  the  subject  —  except  by  a  look.  And  indeed," 
said  the  good-natured  locksmith,  "  there  was  a  good 
deal  in  the  look,  more  than  could  have  been  put  into 
a  great  many  words.  It  said,  among  other  matters, 
'  Don't  ask  me  anything,'  so  imploringly,  that  I 
didn't  ask  her  anything  You'll  think  me  an  old 
fool  I  know,  sir.  If  it's  any  relief  to  call  me  one, 
pray  do." 

"I  am  greatly  disturbed  by  what  you  tell  me," 
said  Mr.  Haredale  after  a  silence.  "  What  meaning 
do  you  attach  to  it  ?  " 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  295 

The  locksmith  shook  his  head,  and  looked  doubt- 
fully out  of  window  at  the  failing  light. 

''  She  cannot  have  married  again,"  said  Mr.  Hare- 
dale. 

"  Not  without  our  knowledge  surely,  sir." 

"  She  may  have  done  so,  in  the  fear  that  it  would 
lead,  if  known,  to  some  objection  or  estrangement. 
Suppose  she  married  incautiously  —  it  is  not  im- 
probable, for  her  existence  has  been  a  lonely  and 
monotonous  one  for  many  years  —  and  the  man 
turned  out  a  ruffian,  she  would  be  anxious  to  screen 
him,  and  yet  would  revolt  from  his  crimes.  This 
might  be.  It  bears  strongly  on  the  whole  drift  of 
her  discourse  yesterday,  and  would  quite  explain 
her  conduct.  Do  you  suppose  Barnaby  is  privy  to 
these  circumstances  ?  " 

"  Quite  impossible  to  say,  sir,"  returned  the  lock- 
smith, shaking  his  head  again :  "  and  next  to  impos- 
sible to  find  out  from  him.  If  what  you  suppose  is 
really  the  case,  I  tremble  for  the  lad  —  a  notable 
person,  sir,  to  put  to  bad  uses  —  " 

"  It  is  not  possible,  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Haredale 
in  a  still  lower  tone  of  voice  than  he  had  spoken 
yet,  "that  we  have  been  blinded  and  deceived  by 
this  woman  from  the  beginning  ?  It  is  not  possible 
that  this  connection  was  formed  in  her  husband's 
lifetime,  and  led  to  his  and  my  brother's  —  " 

"  Good  God,  sir,"  cried  Gabriel,  interrupting  him, 
"  don't  entertain  such  dark  thoughts  for  a  moment. 
Five  and  twenty  years  ago,  where  was  there  a  girl 
like  her  ?  A  gay,  handsome,  laughing,  bright-eyed 
damsel !  Think  what  she  was,  sir.  It  makes  my 
heart  ache  now,  even  now,  though  I'm  an  old  man, 
with  a  woman  for  a  daughter,  to  think  what  she  was 


296  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

and  what  she  is.  We  all  change,  but  that's  with 
Time  ;  Time  does  his  work  honestly,  and  I  don't 
mind  him.  A  fig  for  Time,  sir.  Use  him  well,  and 
he's  a  hearty  fellow,  and  scorns  to  have  you  at  a 
disadvantage.  But  care  and  suffering  (and  those 
have  changed  her)  are  devils,  sir  —  secret,  stealthy, 
undermining  devils  —  who  tread  down  the  bright- 
est flowers  in  Eden,  and  do  more  havoc  in  a  month 
than  Time  does  in  a  year.  Picture  to  yourself  for 
one  minute  what  Mary  was  before  they  went  to 
work  with  her  fresh  heart  and  face  —  do  her  that 
justice  —  and  say  whether  such  a  thing  is  possi- 
ble." 

"You're  a  good  fellow,  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Hare- 
dale,  "  and  are  quite  right.  I  have  brooded  on  that 
subject  so  long,  that  every  breath  of  suspicion  car- 
ries me  back  to  it.     You  are  quite  right." 

"  It  isn't,  sir,"  cried  the  locksmith  with  brightened 
eyes,  and  sturdy,  honest  voice ;  "  it  isn't  because  I 
courted  her  before  Kudge,  and  failed,  that  I  say  she 
was  too  good  for  him.  She  would  have  been  as 
much  too  good  for  me.  But  she  was  too  good  for 
him  ;  he  wasn't  free  and  frank  enough  for  her.  I 
don't  reproach  his  memory  with  it,  poor  fellow ; 
I  only  want  to  put  her  before  you  as  she  really 
was.  For  myself,  I'll  keep  her  old  picture  in  my 
mind ;  and  thinking  of  that,  and  what  has  altered 
her,  I'll  stand  her  friend,  and  try  to  win  her  back 
to  peace.  And  damme,  sir,"  cried  Gabriel,  "with 
your  pardon  for  the  word,  I'd  do  the  same  if  she 
had  married  fifty  highwaymen  in  a  twelvemonth; 
and  think  it  in  the  Protestant  Manual  too,  though 
Martha  said  it  wasn't,  tooth  and  nail,  till  dooms- 
day ! " 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  297 

If  the  dark  little  parlor  had  been  filled  with  a 
dense  fog,  which,  clearing  away  in  an  instant,  left  it 
all  radiance  and  brightness,  it  could  not  have  been 
more  suddenly  cheered  than  by  this  outbreak  on  the 
part  of  the  hearty  locksmith.  In  a  voice  nearly  as 
full  and  round  as  his  own,  Mr.  Haredale  cried  "  Well 
said ! "  and  bade  him  come  away  without  more 
parley.  The  locksmith  complied  right  willingly; 
and  both  getting  into  a  hackney  coach  which  was 
waiting  at  the  door,  drove  off  straightway. 

They  alighted  at  the  street  corner,  and,  dismissing 
their  conveyance,  walked  to  the  house.  To  their 
first  knock  at  the  door  there  was  no  response.  A 
second  met  with  the  like  result.  But  in  answer  to 
the  third,  which  was  of  a  more  vigorous  kind,  the 
parlor  window-sash  was  gently  raised,  and  a  musical 
voice  cried,  — 

*'  Haredale,  my  dear  fellow,  I  am  extremely  glad 
to  see  you.  How  very  much  you  have  improved  in 
your  appearance  since  our  last  meeting !  I  never 
saw  you  looking  better.     How  do  you  do  ?  " 

Mr.  Haredale  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  case- 
ment whence  the  voice  proceeded,  though  there  was 
no  need  to  do  so,  to  recognize  the  speaker,  and  Mr. 
Chester  waved  his  hand,  and  smiled  a  courteous 
welcome. 

"  The  door  will  be  opened  immediately,"  he  said. 
"There  is  nobody  but  a  very  dilapidated  female  to 
perform  such  offices.  You  will  excuse  her  infirmi- 
ties ?  If  she  were  in  a  more  elevated  station  of 
society,  she  would  be  gouty.  Being  but  a  hewer  of 
wood  and  drawer  of  water,  she  is  rheumatic.  My 
dear  Haredale,  these  are  natural  class  distinctions, 
depend  upon  it." 


298  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

Mr.  Haredale,  whose  face  resumed  its  lowering 
and  distrustful  look  the  moment  he  heard  the  voice, 
inclined  his  head  stiffly,  and  turned  his  back  upon 
the  speaker. 

"  ilSrot  opened  yet !  "  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Dear 
me  !  I  hope  the  aged  soul  has  not  caught  her  foot 
in  some  unlucky  cobweb  by  the  way.  She  is  there 
at  last !     Come  in,  I  beg ! " 

Mr.  Haredale  entered,  followed  by  the  locksmith. 
Turning  with  a  look  of  great  astonishment  to  the 
old  woman  who  had  opened  the  door,  he  inquired 
for  Mrs.  Rudge  —  for  Barnaby.  They  were  both 
gone,  she  replied,  wagging  her  ancient  head,  for 
good.  There  was  a  gentleman  in  the  parlor,  who 
perhaps  could  tell  them  more.  That  was  all  she 
knew. 

"Pray,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  presenting  him- 
self before  this  new  tenant,  ''where  is  the  person 
whom  I  came  here  to  see  ?  " 

"My  dear  friend,"  he  returned,  "I  have  not  the 
least  idea." 

"Your  trifling  is  ill  timed,"  retorted  the  other 
in  a  suppressed  tone  and  voice,  "  and  its  subject 
ill  chosen.  Reserve  it  for  those  who  are  your 
friends,  and  do  not  expend  it  on  me.  I  lay  no 
claim  to  the  distinction,  and  have  the  self-denial  to 
reject  it." 

"My  dear,  good  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "you  are 
heated  with  walking.  Sit  down,  I  beg.  Our  friend 
is  —  " 

"  Is  but  a  plain  honest  man,"  returned  Mr.  Hare- 
dale, "  and  quite  unworthy  of  your  notice." 

"  Gabriel  Vardeu  by  name,  sir,"  said  the  locksmith 
bluntly. 


BAKNABY   BUDGE.  299 

"  A  "worthy  Englisli  yeoman  ! "  said  !Mr.  Chester. 
"  A  most  worthy  yeoman,  of  whom  I  have  frequently 
heard  my  son  Ned  —  darling  fellow  —  speak,  and 
have  often  wished  to  see.  Varden,  my  good  friend, 
I  am  glad  to  know  you.  You  wonder  now,"  he  said, 
turning  languidly  to  INIr.  Haredale,  "  to  see  me  here. 
Now,  I  am  sure  you  do." 

Mr.  Haredale  glanced  at  him  —  not  fondly  or 
admiringly  —  smiled,  and  held  his  peace. 

'•  The  mystery  is  solved  in  a  moment,"  said  Mr. 
Chester ;  "  in  a  moment.  Will  you  step  aside  with 
me  one  instant  ?  You  remember  our  little  compact 
in  reference  to  Ned  and  your  dear  niece,  Haredale  ? 
You  remember  the  list  of  assistants  in  their  inno- 
cent intrigue  ?  You  remember  these  two  people 
being  among  them  ?  My  dear  fellow,  congratulate 
yourself  and  me.     I  have  bought  them  off." 

'•  You  have  done  what  ?  "  said  Mr.  Haredale. 

"  Bought  them  off,"  returned  his  smiling  friend. 
"  I  have  found  it  necessary  to  take  some  active  steps 
towards  setting  this  boy-and-girl  attachment  quite 
at  rest,  and  have  begun  by  removing  these  two 
agents.  You  are  surprised  ?  Who  ca7i  withstand 
the  influence  of  a  little  money  ?  They  wanted  it, 
and  have  been  bought  off.  We  have  nothing  more 
to  fear  from  them.     They  are  gone." 

"  Gone  !  "  echoed  Mr.  Haredale.     "  Where  ?  " 

*'My  dear  fellow  —  and  you  must  permit  me  to 
say  again  that  you  never  looked  so  young ;  so  posi- 
tively boyish  as  you  do  to-night  —  the  Lord  knows 
where ;  I  believe  Columbus  himself  wouldn't  find 
them.  Between  you  and  me,  they  have  their  hidden 
reasons,  but  upon  that  point  I  have  pledged  myself 
to  secrecy.     She  appointed  to  see  you  here  to-night 


300  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

I  know,  but  found  it  inconvenient,  and  couldn't 
wait.  Here  is  the  key  of  the  door.  I  am  afraid 
you'll  find  it  inconveniently  large ;  but  as  the  tene- 
ment is  yours,  your  good  nature  will  excuse  that, 
Haredale,  I  am  certain." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Mr.  Haredale  stood  in  the  widow's  parlor  with 
the  door-key  iu  his  hand,  gazing  by  turns  at  Mr. 
Chester  and  at  Gabriel  Varden,  and  occasionally  glan- 
cing downward  at  the  key,  as  in  the  hope  that  of  its 
own  accord  it  would  unlock  the  mystery  ;  until  Mr. 
Chester,  putting  on  his  hat  and  gloves,  and  sweetly 
inquiring  whether  they  were  walking  in  the  same 
direction,  recalled  him  to  himself. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  Our  roads  diverge  —  widely,  as 
you  know.     For  the  present  I  shall  remain  here." 

"  You  will  be  hipped,  Haredale ;  you  will  be 
miserable,  melancholy,  utterly  wretched,"  returned 
the  other.  "  It's  a  place  of  the  very  last  descrip- 
tion for  a  man  of  your  temper.  I  know  it  will 
make  you  very  miserable." 

"Let  it,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  sitting  down;  "and 
thrive  upon  the  thought.     Good-night !  " 

Feigning  to  be  wholly  unconscious  of  the  abrupt 
wave  of  the  hand  which  rendered  this  farewell  tan- 
tamount to  a  dismissal,  Mr.  Chester  retorted  with  a 
bland  and  heartfelt  benediction,  and  inquired  of 
Gabriel  in  what  direction  he  was  going. 

"  Yours,  sir,  would  be  too  much  honor  for  the  like 
of  me,"  replied  the  locksmith,  hesitating. 

"  I  wish  you  to  remain  here  a  little  while,  Var- 
301 


302  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

den,"  said  Mr.  Haredale,  without  looking  towards 
them.     "  I  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  to  you." 

"  I  will  not  intrude  upon  your  conference  another 
moment,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with  inconceivable 
politeness.  "  May  it  be  satisfactory  to  you  both ! 
God  bless  you ! "  So  saying,  and  bestowing  upon  the 
locksmith  a  most  refulgent  smile,  he  left  them. 

"  A  deplorably  constituted  creature,  that  rugged 
person,"  he  said  as  he  walked  along  the  street :  "  he 
is  an  atrocity  that  carries  its  own  punishment  along 
with  it  —  a  bear  that  gnaws  himself.  And  here  is 
one  of  the  inestimable  advantages  of  having  a  per- 
fect command  over  one's  inclinations.  I  have  been 
tempted,  in  these  two  short  interviews,  to  draw 
upon  that  fellow  fifty  times.  Five  men  in  six  would 
have  yielded  to  the  impulse.  By  suppressing  mine, 
I  wound  him  deeper  and  more  keenly  than  if  I  were 
the  best  swordsman  in  all  Europe,  and  he  the  worst. 
You  are  the  wise  man's  very  last  resource,"  he  said, 
tapping  the  hilt  of  his  weapon ;  "  we  can  but  appeal 
to  you  when  all  else  is  said  and  done.  To  come  to 
you  before,  and  thereby  spare  our  adversaries  so 
much,  is  a  barbarian  mode  of  warfare  quite  un- 
worthy any  man  with  the  remotest  pretensions  to 
delicacy  of  feeling  or  refinement." 

He  smiled  so  very  pleasantly  as  he  communed 
with  himself  after  this  manner,  that  a  beggar  was 
emboldened  to  follow  him  for  alms,  and  to  dog  his 
footsteps  for  some  distance.  He  was  gratified  by 
the  circumstance,  feeling  it  complimentary  to  his 
power  of  feature,  and  as  a  reward  suffered  the  man 
to  follow  him  until  he  called  a  chair,  when  he  gra- 
ciously dismissed  him  with  a  fervent  blessing. 

"  Which  is  as  easy  as  cursing,"  he   wisely   added 


BARNABY   RTJDGE,  303 

as  he  took  his  seat,  "and  more  becoming  to  the  face, 
—  To  Clerkenwell,  my  good  creatures,  if  you 
please  ! "  The  chairmen  were  rendered  quite  viva- 
cious by  having  such  a  courteous  burden,  and  to 
Clerkenwell  they  went  at  a  fair  round  trot. 

Alighting  at  a  certain  point  he  had  indicated  to 
them  upon  the  road,  and  paying  them  something 
less  than  they  had  expected  from  a  fare  of  such 
gentle  speech,  he  turned  into  the  street  in  which  the 
locksmith  dwelt,  and  presently  stood  beneath  the 
shadow  of  the  Golden  Key.  Mr.  Tappertit,  who  was 
hard  at  work  by  lamplight  in  a  corner  of  the  work- 
shop, remained  unconscious  of  his  presence  until  a 
hand  upon  his  shoulder  made  him  start  and  turn  his 
head. 

"■  Industry,"  said  Mi-.  Chester,  "  is  the  soul  of 
business,  and  the  keystone  of  prosperity.  Mr. 
Tappertit,  I  shall  expect  you  to  invite  me  to 
dinner  when  you  are  Lord  Mayor  of  London." 

"  Sir,"  returned  the  'prentice,  laying  down  his 
hammer,  and  rubbing  his  nose  on  the  back  of  a  very 
sooty  hand,  "I  scorn  the  Lord  Mayor  and  every- 
thing that  belongs  to  him.  We  must  have  another 
state  of  society,  sir,  before  you  catch  me  being 
Lord  Mayor.     How  de  do,  sir  ?  " 

"  The  better,  Mr.  Tappertit,  for  looking  into  your 
ingenuous  face  once  more.     I  hope  you  are  well." 

"  I  am  as  well,  sir,"  said  Sim,  standing  up  to  get 
nearer  to  his  ear,  and  whispering  hoarsely,  "  as  any 
man  can  be  under  the  aggrawations  to  which  I  am 
exposed.  My  life's  a  burden  to  me.  If  it  wasn't 
for  wengeance,  I'd  play  at  pitch-and-toss  with  it  on 
the  losing  hazard." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Vardeu  at  home  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 


304  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

"  Sir,"  returned  Sim,  eying  him  over  with  a  look 
of  concentrated  expression,  "  she  is.  Did  you  wish 
to  see  her  ?  " 

Mr.  Chester  nodded. 

"■  Then  come  this  way,  sir,"  said  Sim,  wiping  his 
face  upon  his  apron.  "  Follow  me,  sir.  —  Would 
you  permit  me  to  whisper  in  your  ear  one-half  a 
second  ? " 

"By  all  means." 

Mr.  Tappertit  raised  himself  on  tiptoe,  applied 
his  lips  to  Mr.  Chester's  ear,  drew  back  his  head 
without  saying  anything,  looked  hard  at  him,  ap- 
plied them  to  his  ear  again,  again  drew  back,  and 
finally  whispered  —  "  The  name  is  Joseph  Willet. 
Hush!     I  say  no  more." 

Having  said  that  much,  he  beckoned  the  visitor 
with  a  mysterious  aspect  to  follow  him  to  the  par- 
lor door,  where  he  announced  him  in  the  voice  of  a 
gentleman  usher —  "  Mr.  Chester." 

"  And  not  Mr.  Ed'dard,  mind,"  said  Sim,  looking 
into  the  door  again,  and  adding  this  by  way  of  post- 
script in  his  own  person  ;  "  it's  his  father." 

"  But  do  not  let  his  father,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
advancing  hat  in  hand,  as  he  observed  the  effect  of 
this  last  explanatory  announcement,  "  do  not  let  his 
father  be  any  check  or  restraint  on  your  domestic 
occupations,  Miss  Varden." 

"  Oh  !  Now  !  There  !  Ain't  I  always  a  saying 
it  ?  "  exclaimed  Miggs,  clapping  her  hands.  "  If  he 
ain't  been  and  took  missis  for  her  own  daughter ! 
Well,  she  do  look  like  it,  that  she  do.  On'y  think 
of  that,  mim  !  " 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  Mr.  Chester  in  his  softest 
tones,  ''  that  this  is  Mrs.  Varden  ?     I  am  amazed. 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  305 

That  is  not  your  daughter,  Mrs.  Varden  ?     No,  no. 
Your  sister." 

"  My  daughter,  indeed,  sir,"  returned  Mrs.  V., 
blushing  with  great  juvenility. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Varden !  "  cried  the  visitor.  "  Ah, 
ma'am  —  humanity  is  indeed  a  happy  lot  when  we 
can  repeat  ourselves  in  others,  and  still  be  young 
as  they.  You  must  allow  me  to  salute  you  —  the 
custom  of  the  country,  my  dear  madam  —  your 
daughter  too." 

Dolly  showed  some  reluctance  to  perform  this 
ceremony,  but  was  sharply  reproved  by  Mrs.  Varden, 
who  insisted  on  her  undergoing  it  that  minute. 
For  pride,  she  said  with  great'  severity,  was  one  of 
the  seven  deadly  sins,  and  humility  and  lowliness 
of  heart  were  virtues.  Wherefore  she  desired  that 
Dolly  would  be  kissed  immediately,  on  pain  of  her 
just  displeasure;  at  the  same  time  giving  her  to 
understand  that  whatever  she  saw  her  mother  do, 
she  might  safely  do  herself,  without  being  at  the 
trouble  of  any  reasoning  or  reflection  on  the  subject 
—  which,  indeed,  was  offensive  and  undutiful,  and 
in  direct  contravention  of  the  Church  Catechism. 

Thus  admonished,  Dolly  complied,  though  by  no 
means  willingly ;  for  there  was  a  broad,  bold  look 
of  admiration  in  Mr.  Chester's  face,  refined  and 
polished  though  it  sought  to  be,  which  distressed 
her  very  much.  As  she  stood  with  downcast  eyes, 
not  liking  to  look  up  and  meet  his,  he  gazed  upon 
her  with  an  approving  air,  and  then  turned  to  her 
mother. 

"My  friend  Gabriel  (whose  acquaintance  I  only 
made  this  very  evening)  should  be  a  happy  man, 
Mrs.  Varden." 
VOL.  I. -20. 


306  BAKNABY  KUDGE. 

"  Ah  !  "  sighed  Mrs.  V.,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Ah ! "  echoed  Miggs. 

"  Is  that  the  case  ?  "  said  Mr,  Chester  compassion- 
ately.    "  Dear  me  !  " 

"  Master  has  no  intentions,  sir,"  murmured  Miggs 
as  she  sidled  up  to  him,  "  but  to  be  as  grateful  as  his 
natur  will  let  him,  for  everythink  he  owns  which  it 
is  in  his  powers  to  appreciate.  But  we  never,  sir  " 
—  said  Miggs,  looking  sideways  at  Mrs.  Varden,  and 
interlarding  her  discourse  with  a  sigh  —  "  we  never 
know  the  full  value  of  some  wines  and  fig-trees,  till 
we  lose  'em.  So  much  the  worse,  sir,  for  them  as 
has  the  slighting  of  'em  on  their  consciences  when 
they're  gone  to  be  in  full  blow  elsewhere."  And 
Miss  Miggs  cast  up  her  eyes  to  signify  where  that 
might  be. 

As  Mrs.  Varden  distinctly  heard,  and  was  in- 
tended to  hear,  all  that  Miggs  said,  and  as  these 
words  appeared  to  convey,  in  metaphorical  terms,  a 
presage  or  foreboding  that  she  would  at  some  early 
period  droop  beneath  her  trials  and  take  an  easy 
flight  towards  the  stars,  she  immediately  began  to 
languish,  and  taking  a  volume  of  the  IVIanual  from 
a  neighboring  table,  leant  her  arm  upon  it  as  though 
she  were  Hope,  and  that  her  Anchor.  Mr.  Chester 
perceiving  this,  and  seeing  how  the  volume  was  let- 
tered on  the  back,  took  it  gently  from  her  hand,  and 
turned  the  fluttering  leaves. 

"  My  favorite  book,  dear  madam.  How  often,  how 
very  often  in  his  early  life  —  before  he  can  remem- 
ber "  —  (this  clause  was  strictly  true)  —  "have  I  de- 
duced little  easy  moral  lessons  from  its  pages  for  my 
dear  son  Ned !     You  know  Ned  ?  " 

Mrs.  Varden  luid  that  honor,  and  a  fine  affable 
young  gentleman  he  was. 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  307 

"You're  a  motlier,  Mrs.  Varden,"  said  Mr.  Chester, 
taking  a  pinch  of  snuff,  "  and  you  know  what  I,  as 
a  father,  feel  when  he  is  praised.  He  gives  me  some 
uneasiness  —  much  uneasiness  —  he's  of  a  roving 
nature,  ma'am  —  from  flower  to  flower  —  from  sweet 
to  sweet  —  but  his  is  the  butterfly  time  of  life,  and 
we  must  not  be  hard  upon  such  trifling." 

He  glanced  at  Dolly.  She  was  attending  evidently 
to  what  he  said.     Just  what  he  desired  ! 

"  The  only  thing  I  object  to  in  this  little  trait  of 
Ned's  is,"  said  Mr.  Chester  —  "  and  the  mention  of 
his  name  reminds  me,  by  the  way,  that  I  am  about 
to  beg  the  favor  of  a  minute's  talk  with  you  alone 
—  the  only  thing  I  object  to  in  it  is,  that  it  does  par- 
take of  insincerity.  Now,  however  I  may  attempt 
to  disguise  the  fact  from  myself  in  my  affection  for 
Ned,  still  I  always  revert  to  this  —  that  if  we  are 
not  sincere,  we  are  nothing.  Nothing  upon  earth. 
Let  us  be  sincere,  my  dear  madam  —  " 

"  —  And  Protestant,"  murmured  Mrs.  Varden. 

"  And  Protestant  above  all  things.  Let  us  be  sin- 
cere and  Protestant,  strictly  moral,  strictly  just 
(though  always  with  a  leaning  towards  mercy), 
strictly  lionest,  and  strictly  true,  and  we  gain  —  it  is 
a  slight  point,  certainly,  but  still  it  is  something  tan- 
gible ;  we  throw  up  a  groundwork  and  foundation, 
so  to  speak,  of  goodness,  on  which  we  may  after- 
wards erect  some  worthy  superstructure." 

Now,  to  be  sure,  Mrs.  Varden  thought,  here  is  a 
perfect  character.  Here  is  a  meek,  righteous,  thor- 
ough-going Christian,  who,  having  mastered  all  these 
qualities,  so  difficult  of  attainment;  who,  having 
dropped  a  pinch  of  salt  on  the  tails  of  all  the  cardi- 
nal  virtues,   and   caught   them   every  one ;   makes 


308  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

light  of  their  possession,  and  pants  for  more  mor- 
ality. For  the  good  woman  never  doubted  (as  many 
good  men  and  women  never  do)  that  this  slighting 
kind  of  profession,  this  setting  so  little  store  by 
great  matters,  this  seeming  to  say,  "  I  am  not  proud, 
I  am  what  you  hear,  but  I  consider  myself  no  better 
than  other  people ;  let  us  change  the  subject,  pray  " 
—  was  perfectly  genuine  and  true.  He  so  contrived 
it,  and  said  it  in  that  way  that  it  appeared  to  have 
been  forced  from  him,  and  its  effect  was  marvellous. 

Aware  of  the  impression  he  had  made  — few  men 
were  quicker  than  he  at  such  discoveries  —  Mr. 
Chester  followed  up  the  blow  by  propounding  cer- 
tain virtuous  maxims,  somewhat  vague  and  general 
in  their  nature,  doubtless,  and  occasionally  partak- 
ing of  the  character  of  truisms,  worn  a  little  out  at 
elbow,  but  delivered  in  so  charming  a  voice,  and 
with  such  uncommon  serenity  and  peace  of  mind, 
that  they  answered  as  well  as  the  best.  ISTor  is  this 
to  be  wondered  at ;  for,  as  hollow  vessels  produce  a 
far  more  musical  sound  in  falling  than  those  which 
are  substantial,  so  it  will  oftentimes  be  found  that 
sentiments  which  have  nothing  in  them  make  the 
loudest  ringing  in  the  world,  and  are  the  most 
relished. 

Mr.  Chester,  with  the  volume  gently  extended  in 
one  hand,  and  with  the  other  planted  lightly  on  his 
breast,  talked  to  them  in  the  most  delicious  manner 
possible ;  and  quite  enchanted  all  his  hearers,  not- 
withstanding their  conflicting  interests  and  thoughts. 
Even  Dolly,  who,  between  his  keen  regards  and  her 
eying  over  by  Mr.  Tappertit,  was  put  quite  out  of 
countenance,  could  not  help  owning  within  herself, 
that  he  was  tlie  sweetest-spoken  gentleman  she  had 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  309 

ever  seen.  Even  Miss  Miggs,  who  was  divided 
between  admiration  of  Mr.  Chester  and  a  mortal 
jealousy  of  her  young  mistress,  had  sufficient  leisure 
to  be  propitiated.  Even  Mr.  Tappertit,  though 
occupied  as  we  have  seen  in  gazing  at  his  heart's 
delight,  could  not  wholly  divert  his  thoughts  from 
the  voice  of  the  other  charmer.  Mrs.  Varden,  to 
her  own  private  tliiiiking,  had  never  been  so  im- 
proved in  all  her  life ;  and  when  Mr.  Chester,  rising 
and  craving  permission  to  speak  with  her  apart,  took 
her  by  the  hand  and  led  her  at  arm's-length  upstairs 
to  the  best  sitting-room,  she  almost  deemed  him 
something  more  tlian  human. 

"  Dear  madam,"  he  said,  pressing  her  hand  deli- 
cately to  his  lips  ;  "  be  seated." 

Mrs.  Varden  called  up  quite  a  courtly  air,  and 
became  seated. 

'•  You  guess  my  object  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester,  draw- 
ing a  chair  towards  her.  "You  divine  my  pur- 
pose ?  I  am  an  affectionate  parent,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Varden." 

"  That  I  am  sure  you  are,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  V. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Mr.  Chester,  tapping  his 
snuff-box  lid.  "Heavy  moral  responsibilities  rest 
with  parents,  Mrs.  Varden." 

Mrs.  Varden  slightly  raised  her  hands,  shook  her 
head,  and  looked  at  the  ground  as  though  she  saw 
straight  through  the  globe,  out  at  the  other  end,  and 
into  the  immensity  of  space  beyond. 

"I  may  coniide  in  you,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  with- 
out reserve.  I  love  my  son,  ma'am,  dearly  ;  and, 
loving  him  as  I  do,  I  would  save  him  from  working 
certain  misery.  You  know  of  his  attachment  to 
Miss  Haredale.     You  have  abetted   him  in  it,  and 


310  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

very  kind  of  you  it  was  to  do  so.  I  am  deeply 
obliged  to  you  —  most  deeply  obliged  to  you  —  Tor 
your  interest  in  his  behalf ;  but,  my  dear  ma'am,  it 
is  a  mistaken  one,  I  do  assure  you." 

Mrs.  Varden  stammered  that  she  was  sorry  — 
*'  Sorry,  my  dear  ma'am  !  "  he  interposed.  "  ISTever 
be  sorry  for  what  is  so  very  amiable,  so  very  good 
in  intention,  so  perfectly  like  yourself.  But  there 
are  grave  and  weighty  reasons,  pressing  family  con- 
siderations, and,  apart  even  from  these,  points  of 
religious  difference,  which  interpose  themselves,  and 
render  their  union  impossible ;  utterly  impossible. 
I  should  have  mentioned  these  circumstances  to  your 
husband:  but  he  has  —  you  will  excuse  my  saying 
this  so  freely  —  he  has  not  your  quickness  of  appre- 
hension or  depth  of  moral  sense.  What  an  extremely 
airy  house  this  is,  and  how  beautifully  kept !  For 
one  like  myself  —  a  widower  so  long  —  these  tokens 
of  female  care  and  superintendence  have  inexpressi- 
ble charms." 

Mrs.  Varden  began  to  think  (she  scarcely  knew 
why)  that  the  young  Mr.  Chester  must  be  in  the 
wrong,  and  the  old  Mr.  Chester  must  be  in  the  right. 
''My  son  Ned,"  resumed  her  tempter  with  his 
most  winning  air,  "  has  had,  I  am  told,  your  lovely 
daughter's  aid,  and  your  open-hearted  husband's." 

"  —  Much  more  than  mine,  sir,"  said  jNIrs.  Varden ; 
"  a  great  deal  more.  I  have  often  had  my  doubts. 
It's  a  —  " 

"A  bad  example,"  suggested  Mr.  Chester.  ''It 
is.  No  doubt  it  is.  Your  daughter  is  at  that  age 
when  to  set  before  her  an  encouragement  for  young 
persons  to  rebel  against  their  parents  on  this  most 
important  point  is  particularly  injudicious.      You 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  311 

are  quite  right.  I  ought  to  have  thought  of  that 
myself,  but  it  escaped  me,  I  confess  —  so  far  superior 
are  your  sex  to  ours,  dear  madam,  in  point  of 
penetration  and  sagacity." 

Mrs.  Varden  looked  as  wise  as  if  she  had  really 
said  something  to  deserve  this  compliment  —  firmly 
believed  she  had,  in  short  —  and  her  faith  in  her  own 
shrewdness  increased  considerably. 

"  My  dear  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  you 
embolden  me  to  be  plain  with  you.  My  son  and  I 
are  at  variance  on  this  point.  The  young  lady  and 
her  natural  guardian  ditfer  upon  it  also.  And  the 
closing  point  is,  that  my  son  is  bound,  by  his  duty  to 
me,  by  his  honor,  by  every  solemn  tie  and  obligation, 
to  marry  some  one  else." 

"  Engaged  to  marry  another  lady ! "  quoth  Mrs. 
Varden,  holding  up  her  hands» 

*'My  dear  madam,  brought  up,  educated,  and 
trained  expressly  for  that  purpose.  Expressly  for 
that  purpose.  —  Miss  Haredale,  I  am  told,  is  a  very 
charming  creature." 

"  I  am  her  foster-mother,  and  should  know  —  the 
best  young  lady  in  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Varden. 

"  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt  of  it.  I  am  sure 
she  is.  And  you,  who  have  stood  in  that  tender 
relation  towards  her,  are  bound  to  consult  her  happi- 
ness. Now,  can  I  —  as  I  have  said  to  Haredale, 
who  quite  agrees  —  can  I  possibly  stand  by,  and 
suffer  her  to  throw  herself  away  (although  she  is  of  a 
Catholic  family)  upon  a  young  fellow  who,  as  yet, 
has  no  heart  at  all  ?  It  is  no  imputation  upon  him 
to  say  he  has  not,  because  young  men  who  have 
plunged  deeply  into  the  frivolities  and  convention- 
alities of  society  very  seldom  have.     Their  hearts 


312  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

never  grow,  my  dear  ma'am,  till  after  thirty.  I  don't 
believe,  no,  I  do  not  believe,  that  I  had  any  heart 
myself  when  I  was  Ned's  age." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  "  I  think  you  must 
have  had.  It's  impossible  that  you,  who  have  so 
much  now,  can  ever  have  been  without  any." 

"I  hope,"  he  answered,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
meekly,  "I  have  a  little;  I  hope,  a  very  little  — 
Heaven  knows  !  But  to  return  to  Ned :  I  have  no 
doubt  you  thought,  and  therefore  interfered  benevo- 
lently in  his  behalf,  that  I  objected  to  Miss  Hare- 
dale.  How  very  natural !  My  dear  madam,  I 
object  to  him  —  to  him  —  emphatically  to  Ned 
himself." 

Mrs.  Varden  was  perfectly  aghast  at  the  disclosure. 

"  He  has,  if  he  honorably  fullils  this  solemn  obli- 
gation of  which  I  have  told  you  —  and  he  must  be 
honorable,  dear  Mrs.  Varden,  or  he  is  no  son  of 
mine  —  a  fortune  within  his  reach.  He  is  of  most 
expensive,  ruinously  expensive  habits  ;  and  if,  in  a 
moment  of  caprice  and  wilfulness,  he  were  to  marry 
this  young  lady,  and  so  deprive  himself  of  the 
means  of  gratifying  the  tastes  to  which  he  has  been 
so  long  accustomed,  he  would  —  my  dear  madam,  he 
would  break  the  gentle  creature's  heart.  Mrs. 
Varden,  my  good  lady,  my  dear  soul,  I  put  it  to  you 
—  is  such  a  sacrifice  to  be  endured  ?  Is  the  female 
heart  a  thing  to  be  trifled  with  in  this  way  ?  Ask 
your  own,  my  dear  madam.  Ask  your  own,  I 
beseech  you." 

"Truly;"  thought  Mrs.  Varden,  "this  gentleman 
is  a  saint.  But,"  she  added  aloud,  and  not  unnatu- 
rally, "if  you  take  Miss  Emma's  lover  away,  sir, 
what  becomes  of  the  poor  thing's  heart  then  ?  " 


BAKNABY  RUDGE.  313 

"The  very  point,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  not  at  all 
abashed,  "  to  which  I  wished  to  lead  you.  A  mar- 
riage with  my  son,  whom  I  should  be  compelled  to 
disown,  would  be  followed  by  years  of  misery ;  they 
would  be  separated,  my  dear  madam,  in  a  twelve- 
month. To  break  off  this  attachment,  which  is  more 
fancied,  than  real,  as  you  and  I  know  very  well,  will 
cost  the  dear  girl  but  a  few  tears,  and  she  is  happy 
again.  Take  the  case  of  your  own  daughter,  the 
young  lady  downstairs  who  is  your  breathing  image  " 
—  Mrs.  Varden  coughed  and  simpered — "there 
is  a  young  man  (I  am  sorry  to  say,  a  dissolute 
fellow,  of  very  indifferent  character),  of  whom  I 
have  heard  Ned  speak  —  Bullet  was  it  —  Pullet  — 
Mullet  —  " 

"  There  is  a  young  man  of  the  name  of  Joseph 
Willet,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  folding  her  hands 
loftily. 

"  That's  he,"  cried  Mr.  Chester.  "  Suppose  this 
Joseph  Willet,  now,  were  to  aspire  to  the  affections 
of  your  charming  daughter,  and  were  to  engage 
them  ?  " 

"It  would  be  like  his  impudence,"  interposed 
Mrs.  Varden,  bridling,  "  to  dare  to  think  of  such  a 
thing ! " 

"  My  dear  madam,  that's  the  whole  case.  I  know 
it  would  be  like  his  impudence.  It  is  like  Ned's 
impudence  to  do  as  he  has  done ;  but  you  would  not 
on  that  account,  or  because  of  a  few  tears  from  your 
beautiful  daughter,  refrain  from  checking  their 
inclinations  in  their  birth.  I  meant  to  have  rea- 
soned thus  with  your  husband  when  I  saw  him  at 
Mrs.  Rudge's  this  evening — " 

"  My   husband,"  said   Mrs.    Varden,   interposing 


314  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

with  emotion,  "would  be  a  great  deal  better  at 
home  than  going  to  Mrs.  Rudge's  so  often.  I  don't 
know  what  he  does  there.  I  don't  see  what  occa- 
sion he  has  to  busy  himself  in  her  affairs  at  all, 
sir." 

"  If  I  don't  appear  to  express  my  concurrence  in 
those  last  sentiments  of  yours,"  returned  Mr. 
Chester,  "  quite  so  strongly  as  you  might  desire,  it 
is  because  his  being  there,  my  dear  madam,  and  not 
proving  conversational,  led  me  hither,  and  procured 
me  the  happiness  of  this  interview  with  one  in 
whom  the  whole  management,  conduct,  and  j)rosper- 
ity  of  her  family  are  centred,  I  perceive." 

With  that  he  took  Mrs.  Varden's  hand  again,  and 
having  pressed  it  to  his  lips  with  the  high-flown 
gallantry  of  the  day  —  a  little  burlesqued,  to  render 
it  the  more  striking  in  the  good  lady's  unaccustomed 
eyes  —  proceeded,  in  the  same  strain  of  mingled 
sophistry,  cajolery,  and  flattery,  to  entreat  that 
her  utmost  influence  might  be  exerted  to  i-estrain 
her  husband  and  daughter  from  any  further  promo- 
tion of  Edward's  suit  to  IVIiss  Haredale,  and  from 
aiding  or  abetting  either  party  in  any  way.  Mrs. 
Varden  was  but  a  woman,  and  had  her  share  of 
vanity,  obstinacy,  and  love  of  power.  She  entered 
into  a  secret  treaty  of  alliance,  offensive  and  defen- 
sive, with  her  insinuating  visitor;  and  really  did 
believe,  as  many  others  would  have  done  who  saw 
and  heard  him,  that  in  so  doing  she  furthered  the 
ends  of  truth,  justice,  and  morality  in  a  very 
uncommon  degree. 

Overjoyed  by  the  success  of  his  negotiation,  and 
mightily  amused  within  himself,  Mr.  Chester  con- 
ducted her  downstairs  in  the  same  state  as  before ; 


BAKNABY  RITDGE.  315 

and  having  repeated  the  previous  ceremony  of  salu- 
tation, which  also,  as  before,  comprehended  Dolly, 
took  his  leave ;  first  completing  the  conquest  of 
Miss  Miggs's  heart  by  inquiring  if  "this  young  lady" 
would  light  him  to  the  door. 

"  Oh,  mim !  "  said  Miggs,  returning  with  the 
candle.  "  Oh,  gracious  me,  mim,  there's  a  gentle- 
man !  Was  there  ever  such  an  angel  to  talk  as  he 
is  —  and  such  a  sweet-looking  man  ?  So  upright 
and  noble,  that  he  seems  to  despise  the  very  ground 
he  walks  on ;  and  yet  so  mild  and  condescending, 
that  he  seems  to  say,  '  But  I  will  take  notice  on  it 
too.'  And  to  think  of  his  taking  you  for  Miss 
Dolly,  and  Miss  Dolly  for  your  sister!  Oh,  my 
goodness  me,  if  I  was  master,  wouldn't  I  be  jealous 
of  him ! " 

Mrs.  Varden  reproved  her  handmaid  for  this  vain 
speaking ;  but  very  gently  and  mildly  —  quite  smil- 
ingly indeed  —  remarking  that  she  was  a  foolish, 
giddy,  light-headed  girl,  whose  spirits  carried  her 
beyond  all  bounds,  and  who  didn't  mean  half  she 
said,  or  she  Avould  be  quite  angry  with  her. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Dolly  in  a  thoughtful  man- 
ner, "  I  half  believe  Mr.  Chester  is  something  like 
Miggs  in  that  respect.  For  all  his  politeness  and 
pleasant  speaking,  I  am  pretty  sure  he  was  making 
game  of  us  more  than  once." 

"  If  you  venture  to  say  such  a  thing  again,  and  to 
speak  ill  of  people  behind  their  backs  in  my  pres- 
ence, miss,"  said  Mrs.  Varden,  "  I  shall  insist  upon 
your  taking  a  candle  and  going  to  bed  directly. 
How  dare  you,  Dolly  ?  I'm  astonished  at  you. 
The  rudeness  of  your  whole  behavior  this  evening 
has   been   disgraceful.      Did   anybody   ever   hear," 


316  BAENABY   RTJDGE. 

cried  the  enraged  matron,  bursting  into  tears,  "  of  a 
daughter  telling  her  own  mother  she  has  been  made 
game  of  ?  " 

What  a  very  uncertain    temper    Mrs.  Varden's 
was ! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Eepairing  to  a  noted  coffee-house  in  Covent  Gar- 
den when  he  left  the  locksmith's,  Mr.  Chester  sat 
long  over  a  late  dinner,  entertaining  himself  exceed- 
ingly with  the  whimsical  recollection  of  his  recent 
proceedings,  and  congratulating  himself  very  much 
on  his  great  cleverness.  Influenced  by  these 
thoughts,  his  face  wore  an  expression  so  benign  and 
tranquil,  that  the  waiter  in  immediate  attendance 
upon  him  felt  he  could  almost  have  died  in  his 
defence,  and  settled  in  his  own  mind  (until  the 
receipt  of  the  bill,  and  a  very  small  fee  for  very 
great  trouble,  disabused  it  of  the  idea)  that  such  an 
apostolic  customer  was  worth  half  a  dozen  of  the 
ordinary  run  of  visitors,  at  least. 

A  visit  to  the  gaming-table  —  not  as  a  heated, 
anxious  venturer,  but  one  whom  it  was  quite  a  treat 
to  see  staking  his  two  or  three  pieces  in  deference 
to  the  follies  of  society,  and  smiling  with  equal 
benevolence  on  winners  and  losers  —  made  it  late 
before  he  reached  home.  It  was  his  custom  to  bid 
his  servant  go  to  bed  at  his  own  time  unless  he  had 
orders  to  the  contrary,  and  to  leave  a  candle  on  the 
common  stair.  There  was  a  lamp  on  the  landing  by 
which  he  could  always  light  it  when  he  came  home 
late,  and  having  a  key  of  the  door  about  him,  he 
could  enter  and  go  to  bed  at  his  pleasure. 
317 


318  BAFvNABY   RUDGE. 

He  opened  the  glass  of  the  dull  lamp,  whose 
wick,  burnt  up  and  swollen  like  a  drunkard's  nose, 
came  flying  off  in  little  carbuncles  at  the  candle's 
touch,  and  scattering  hot  sparks  about,  rendered  it 
matter  of  some  diificulty  to  kindle  the  laz}^  taper ; 
when  a  noise,  as  of  a  man  snoring  deeply  some  steps 
higher  up,  caused  him  to  pause  and  listen.  It  was 
the  heavy  breathing  of  a  sleeper  close  at  hand. 
Some  fellow  had  lain  down  on  the  open  staircase, 
and  was  slumbering  soundly.  Having  lighted  the 
candle  at  length,  and  opened  his  own  door,  he  softly 
ascended,  holding  the  taper  high  above  his  head, 
and  peering  cautiously  about ;  curious  to  see  what 
kind  of  man  had  chosen  so  comfortless  a  shelter  for 
his  lodging. 

With  his  head  upon  the  landing,  and  his  great 
limbs  flung  over  half  a  dozen  stairs,  as  carelessly  as 
though  he  were  a  dead  man  whom  drunken  bearers 
had  thrown  down  by  chance,  there  lay  Hugh,  face 
uppermost,  his  long  hair  drooping  like  some  wild 
weed  upon  his  wooden  pillow,  and  his  huge  chest 
heaving  with  the  sounds  which  so  unwontedly  dis- 
turbed the  place  and  hour.  He  who  came  upon  him 
so  unexpectedly  was  about  to  break  his  rest  by 
thrusting  him  with  his  foot,  when  glancing  at  his 
upturned  face,  he  arrested  himself  in  the  very 
action,  and  stooping  down  and  shading  the  candle 
with  liis  hand,  examined  his  features  closely.  Close 
as  his  flrst  inspection  was,  it  did  not  sufiice,  for  he 
passed  the  light,  still  carefully  shaded  as  before, 
across  and  across  his  face,  and  yet  observed  him 
with  a  searching  eye. 

While  he  was  thus  engaged,  the  sleeper,  without 
any  starting  or  turning  round,  awoke.     There  was  a 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  319 

kind  of  fascination  in  meeting  his  steady  gaze  so 
suddenly,  which  took  from  the  other  the  presence 
of  mind  to  withdraw  his  eyes,  and  forced  him,  as  it 
were,  to  meet  his  look.  So  they  remained  staring 
at  each  other,  until  Mr.  Chester  at  last  broke  silence, 
and  asked  him,  in  a  low  voice,  why  he  lay  sleeping 
there. 

"  I  thought,"  said  Hugh,  struggling  into  a  sitting 
posture  and  gazing  at  him  intently  still,  "  that  you 
were  a  part  of  my  dream.  It  was  a  curious  one.  I 
hope  it  may  never  come  true,  master." 

"  What  makes  you  shiver  ?  " 

"  The  —  the  cold,  I  suppose,"  he  growled  as  he 
shook  himself  and  rose.  "  I  hardly  know  where  I 
am  yet." 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester. 

"Ay,  I  know  you,"  he  answered.  "I  was  dream- 
ing of  you  —  we're  not  where  I  thought  we  were. 
That's  a  comfort." 

He  looked  round  him  as  he  spoke,  and  in  particu- 
lar looked  above  his  head,  as  though  he  half  ex- 
pected to  be  standing  under  some  object  which  had 
had  existence  in  his  dream.  Then  he  rubbed  his 
eyes  and  shook  himself  again,  and  followed  his  con- 
ductor into  his  own  rooms. 

Mr.  Chester  lighted  the  candles  which  stood  upon 
his  dressing-table,  and  wheeling  an  easy-chair  towards 
the  fire,  which  was  yet  burning,  stirred  up  a  cheer- 
ful blaze,  sat  down  before  it,  and  bade  his  uncouth 
visitor  "  Come  here,"  and  draw  his  boots  off. 

"  You  have  been  drinking  again,  my  fine  fellow," 
he  said,  as  Hugh  went  down  on  one  knee,  and  did  as 
he  was  told. 

"As  I'm  alive,  master,  I've  walked  the  twelve 


320  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

long  miles,  and  waited  here  I  don't  know  how  long, 
and  had  no  drink  between  my  lips  since  dinner-time 
at  noon." 

"And  can  you  do  nothing  better,  my  pleasant 
friend,  than  fall  asleep,  and  shake  the  very  building 
with  your  snores  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chester.  "  Can't  you 
dream  in  your  straw  at  home,  dull  dog  as  you  are, 
that  you  need  come  here  to  do  it  ?  —  Reach  me 
those  slippers,  and  tread  softly." 

Hugh  obeyed  in  silence. 

"And  harkee,  my  dear  young  gentleman,"  said 
Mr.  Chester  as  he  put  them  on,  "  the  next  time  you 
dream,  don't  let  it  be  of  me,  but  of  some  dog  or 
horse  with  whom  you  are  better  acquainted.  Fill 
the  glass  once  —  you'll  find  it  and  the  bottle  in  the 
same  place  —  and  empty  it  to  keep  yourself  awake." 

Hugh  obeyed  again  —  even  more  zealously  — and 
having  done  so,  presented  himself  before  his  patron. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  what  do  you  want 
with  me  ?  " 

"  There  was  news  to-day,"  returned  Hugh.  "  Your 
son  was  at  our  house  —  came  down  on  horseback. 
He  tried  to  see  the  young  woman,  but  couldn't  get 
sight  of  her.  He  left  some  letter  or  some  message, 
which  our  Joe  had  charge  of,  but  he  and  the  old  one 
quarrelled  about  it  when  your  son  had  gone,  and  the 
old  one  wouldn't  let  it  be  delivered.  He  says 
(that's  the  old  one  does)  that  none  of  his  people 
shall  interfere  and  get  him  into  trouble.  He's  a 
landlord  he  says,  and  lives  on  everybody's  custom." 

"He  is  a  jewel,"  smiled  Mr.  Chester,  "and  the 
better  for  being  a  dull  one.  —  Well  ?  " 

"  Varden's  daughter  —  that's  the  girl  I  kissed  —  " 

"  —  And  stole  the  bracelet  from  upon  the  king's 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  321 

high-way,"  said  Mr,  Chester  composedly.  "  Yes ; 
what  of  her  ?  " 

"  She  wrote  a  note  at  our  house  to  the  young 
woman,  saying  she  lost  the  letter  I  brought  to  you, 
and  you  burnt.  Our  Joe  was  to  carry  it,  but  the 
old  one  kept  him  at  home  all  next  day,  on  purpose 
that  he  shouldn't.  Next  morning  he  gave  it  to  me 
to  take  ;  and  here  it  is." 

"You  didn't  deliver  it  then,  my  good  friend?" 
said  Mr.  Chester,  twirling  Dolly's  note  between  his 
finger  and  thumb,  and  feigning  to  be  surprised. 

"  I  supposed  you'd  want  to  have  it,"  retorted 
Hugh.     "Burn  one,  burn  all,  I  thought." 

"  My  devil-may-care  acquaintance,"  said  IMr. 
Chester  —  "really,  if  you  do  not  draw  some  nicer 
distinctions,  your  career  will  be  cut  short  with  most 
surprising  suddenness.  Don't  you  know  that  the 
letter  you  brought  to  me  was  directed  to  my  son, 
who  resides  in  this  very  place  ?  And  can  you  de- 
scry no  difference  between  his  letters  and  those  ad- 
dressed to  other  people  ?  " 

"  If  you  don't  want  it,"  said  Hugh,  disconcerted 
by  this  reproof,  for  he  had  expected  high  praise, 
"  give  it  me  back,  and  I'll  deliver  it.  I  don't  know 
how  to  please  you,  master." 

"I  shall  deliver  it,"  returned  his  patron,  putting 
it  away  after  a  moment's  consideration,  "myself. 
Does  the  young  lady  walk  out  on  fine  mornings  ?  " 

"  Mostly  —  about  noon  is  her  usual  time." 

"  Alone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  alone." 

"Where?" 

"In  the  grounds  before  the  house.  Them  that 
the  footpath  crosses." 

VOL.  I.-21. 


322  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

"  If  the  weather  should  be  fine,  I  may  throw  my- 
self in  her  way  to-morrow,  perhaps,"  said  ^.Ir. 
Chester,  as  coolly  as  if  she  were  one  of  his  ordinary 
acquaintance.  "  Mr.  Hugh,  if  I  should  ride  up  to 
the  Maypole  door,  you  will  do  me  the  favor  only  to 
have  seen  me  once.  You  must  suppress  your  grati- 
tude, and  endeavor  to  forget  my  forbearance  in  the 
matter  of  the  bracelet.  It  is  natural  it  should  break 
out,  and  it  does  you  honor ;  but,  when  other  folks 
are  by,  you  must,  for  your  own  sake  and  safety,  be 
as  like  your  usual  self  as  though  you  owed  me  no 
obligation  whatever,  and  had  never  stood  within 
these  walls.     You  comprehend  me  ?  " 

Hugh  understood  him  perfectly.  After  a  pause 
he  muttered  that  he  hoped  his  patron  would  involve 
him  in  no  trouble  about  this  last  letter ;  for  he  had 
kept  it  back  solely  with  tlie  view  of  pleasing  him. 
He  was  continuing  in  this  strain,  when  Mr.  Chester, 
with  a  most  beneficent  and  patronizing  air,  cut  him 
short  by  saying,  — 

"  My  good  fellow,  you  have  my  promise,  my  word, 
my  sealed  bond  (for  a  verbal  pledge  with  me  is 
quite  as  good),  that  I  will  always  protect  you  so  long 
as  you  deserve  it.  Now,  do  set  your  mind  at  rest. 
Keep  it  at  ease,  I  beg  of  you.  When  a  man  puts 
himself  in  my  power  so  thoroughly  as  you  have 
done,  I  really  feel  as  though  he  had  a  kind  of  claim 
upon  me.  I  am  more  disposed  to  mercy  and  for- 
bearance under  such  circumstances  than  I  can  tell 
you,  Hugh.  Do  look  upon  me  as  your  protector, 
and  rest  assured,  I  er.treat  you,  that  on  the  siibject 
of  that  indiscretion  you  may  preserve,  as  long  as 
you  and  I  are  friends,  the  lightest  heart  that  ever 
beat  within  a  human  breast.     Fill  that  glass  once 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  323 

more  to  cheer  you  on  your  road  homewards  —  I  am 
really  quite  ashamed  to  think  how  far  you  have  to 
go  —  and  then  God  bless  you  for  the  night." 

"They  think,"  said  Hugh,  when  he  had  tossed 
the  liquor  down,  "that  I  am  sleeping  soundly  in 
the  stable.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  The  stable  door  is  shut, 
but  the  steed's  gone,  master." 

"  You  are  a  most  convivial  fellow,"  returned  his 
friend,  "and  I  love  your  humor  of  all  things.  Good- 
night. Take  the  greatest  possible  care  of  yourself, 
for  my  sake  !  " 

It  was  remarkable  that,  during  the  whole  inter- 
view, each  had  endeavored  to  catch  stolen  glances 
of  the  other's  face,  and  had  never  looked  full  at  it. 
They  interchanged  one  brief  and  hasty  glance  as 
Hugh  went  out,  averted  their  eyes  directly,  and  so 
separated.  Hugh  closed  the  double  doors  behind 
him  carefully  and  without  noise ;  and  Mr.  Chester 
remained  in  his  easy-chair,  with  his  gaze  intently 
fixed  upon  the  fire. 

"  Well !  "  he  said,  after  meditating  for  a  long 
time  —  and  said  with  a  deep  sigh  and  an  uneasy 
shifting  of  his  attitude,  as  though  he  dismissed 
some  other  subject  from  his  thoughts,  and  returned 
to  that  which  had  held  possession  of  them  all  the 
day  —  "  the  plot  thickens  ;  I  have  thrown  the  shell ; 
it  will  explode,  I  think,  in  eight  and  forty  hours, 
and  should  scatter  these  good  folks  amazingly.  We 
shall  see ! " 

He  went  to  bed  and  fell  asleep,  but  had  not  slept 
long  when  he  started  up  and  thought  that  Hugh 
was  at  the  outer  door,  calling  in  a  strange  voice, 
very  different  from  his  own,  to  be  admitted.  The 
delusion  was  so  strong  upon  him,  and  was  so  full  of 


324  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

that  vague  terror  of  the  night  in  which  such  visions 
have  their  being,  that  he  rose,  and  taking  his  sheathed 
sword  in  his  hand,  opened  the  door,  and  looked  out 
upon  the  staircase,  and  towards  the  spot  where 
Hugh  had  lain  asleep;  and  even  spoke  to  him  by 
name.  But  all  was  dark  and  quiet,  and  creeping 
back  to  bed  again,  he  fell,  after  an  hour's  uneasy 
watching,  into  a  second  sleep,  and  woke  no  more 
till  morning. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

The  thoughts  of  worldly  men  are  forever  regu- 
lated by  a  moral  law  of  gravitation,  which,  like  the 
physical  one,  holds  them  down  to  earth.  The  bright 
glory  of  day,  and  the  silent  wonders  of  a  starlit 
night,  appeal  to  their  minds  in  vain.  There  are  no 
signs  in  the  sun,  or  in  the  moon,  or  in  the  stars,  for 
their  reading.  They  are  like  some  wise  men,  who, 
learning  to  know  each  planet  by  its  Latin  name, 
have  quite  forgotten  such  small  heavenly  constella- 
tions as  Charity,  Forbearance,  Universal  Love,  and 
Mercy,  although  they  shine  by  night  and  day  so 
brightly  that  the  blind  may  see  them  ;  and  who, 
looking  upward  at  the  spangled  sky,  see  nothing 
there  but  the  reflection  of  their  own  great  wisdom 
and  book-learning. 

It  is  curious  to  imagine  these  people  of  the  world, 
busy  in  thought,  turning  their  eyes  toward  the 
countless  spheres  that  shine  above  us,  and  making 
them  reflect  the  only  images  their  minds  contain. 
The  man  who  lives  but  in  the  breath  of  princes  has 
nothing  in  his  sight  but  stars  for  courtiers'  breasts. 
The  envious  man  beholds  his  neighbors'  honors  even 
in  the  sky ;  to  the  money-hoarder,  and  the  mass  of 
worldly  folk,  the  whole  great  universe  above  glitters 
with  sterling  coin  —  fresh  from  the  mint  —  stamped 
325 


326  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

with  the  sovereign's  head,  coining  always  between 
them  and  heaven,  turn  where  they  may.  So  do  the 
shadows  of  our  own  desires  stand  between  us  and 
our  better  angels,  and  thus  their  brightness  is 
eclipsed. 

Everything  was  fresh  and  gay,  as  though  the 
world  were  but  that  morning  made,  when  Mr. 
Chester  rode  at  a  tranquil  pace  along  the  Forest 
road.  Though  early  in  the  season,  it  was  warm  and 
genial  weather;  the  trees  were  budding  into  leaf, 
the  hedges  and  the  grass  were  green,  the  air  was 
musical  with  songs  of  birds,  and  high  above  them 
all  the  lark  poured  out  her  richest  melody.  In 
shady  spots  the  morning  dew  sparkled  on  each 
young  leaf  and  blade  of  grass  ;  and,  where  the  sun 
was  shining,  some  diamond  drops  yet  glistened 
brightly,  as  in  unwillingness  to  leave  so  fair  a 
world,  and  have  such  brief  existence.  Even  the 
light  wind,  whose  rustling  was  as  gentle  to  the  ear 
as  softly  falling  water,  had  its  hope  and  promise ; 
and,  leaving  a  pleasant  fragrance  in  its  track  as  it 
went  fluttering  by,  whispered  of  its  intercourse  with 
Summer,  and  of  his  happy  coming. 

The  solitary  rider  went  glancing  on  among  the 
trees,  from  sunlight  into  shade  and  back  again,  at 
the  same  even  pace  —  looking  about  him,  certainly, 
from  time  to  time,  but  with  no  greater  thought  of 
the  day  or  the  scene  through  which  he  moved  than 
that  he  was  fortunate  (being  choicely  dressed)  to 
have  such  favorable  weather.  He  smiled  very  com- 
placently at  such  times,  but  rather  as  if  he  were 
satisfied  with  himself  than  with  anything  else  :  and 
so  went  riding  on  upon  his  chestnut  cob,  as  pleasant 
to  look  upon  as  his  own  horse,  and  probably  far  less 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  327 

sensitive  to  the  many  cheerful  influences  by  which 
he  was  surrounded. 

In  course  of  time  the  Maypole's  massive  chimneys 
rose  upon  his  view :  but  he  quickened  not  his  pace 
one  jot,  and  with  the  same  cool  gravity  rode  up  to 
the  tavern  porch.  John  Willet,  who  was  toasting 
his  red  face  before  a  great  lire  in  the  bar,  and  who, 
with  surpassing  foresight  and  quickness  of  appre- 
hension, had  been  thinking,  as  he  looked  at  the  blue 
sky,  that  if  that  state  of  things  lasted  much  longer, 
it  might  ultimately  become  necessary  to  leave  off 
fires  and  throw  the  windows  open,  issued  forth  to 
hold  his  stirrup ;  calling  lustily  for  Hugh. 

"  Oh,  you're  here,  are  you,  sir  ? "  said  John, 
rather  surprised  by  the  quickness  with  which  he 
appeared.  "  Take  this  here  valuable  animal  into 
the  stable,  and  have  more  than  particular  care  of 
him,  if  you  want  to  keep  your  place.  A  mortal 
lazy  fellow,  sir ;  he  needs  a  deal  of  looking 
after." 

"  But  you  have  a  son,"  returned  Mr.  Chester, 
giving  his  bridle  to  Hugh  as  he  dismounted,  and 
acknowledging  his  salute  by  a  careless  motion  of 
his  hand  towards  his  hat.  *'  Why  don't  you  make 
him  useful  ?  " 

"Why,  the  truth  is,  sir,"  replied  John  with  great 
importance,  "■  that  my  son  —  What,  you're  a  listen- 
ing, are  you,  villain  ?  " 

"  Who's  listening  ?  "  returned  Hugh  angrily.  ''  A 
treat,  indeed,  to  hear  you  speak  !  Would  you  have 
me  take  him  in  till  he's  cool  ?  " 

"  Walk  him  up  and  down  further  off  then,  sir," 
cried  old  John,  "  and  when  you  see  me  and  a  noble 
gentleman  entertaining  ourselves   with   talk,  keep 


328  BARNABY   RTJDGE. 

youi"  distance.  If  you  don't  know  your  distance, 
sir,"  added  IMr.  Willet  after  an  enormously  long 
pause,  during  which  he  fixed  his  great  dull  eyes  on 
Hugh,  and  waited  with  exemplary  patience  for  any 
little  property  in  the  way  of  ideas  that  might  be 
coming  to  him,  "we'll  find  a  way  to  teach  you 
pretty  soon." 

Hugh  shrugged  his  shoulders  scornfully,  and,  in 
his  reckless  swaggering  way,  crossed  to  the  other 
side  of  the  little  green,  and  there,  with  the  bridle 
slung  loosely  over  his  shoulder,  led  the  horse  to  and 
fro,  glancing  at  his  master  every  now  and  then,  from 
under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  with  as  sinister  an  aspect 
as  one  would  desire  to  see.   • 

Mr.  Chester,  who,  without  appearing  to  do  so, 
had  eyed  him  attentively  during  this  brief  dispute, 
stepped  into  the  porch,  and  turning  abruptly  to  Mr. 
Willet,  said,  — 

"  You  keep  strange  servants,  John." 

"  Strange  enough  to  look  at,  sir,  certainly,"  an- 
swered the  host ;  "  but  out  of  doors ;  for  horses, 
dogs,  and  the  like  of  that ;  there  ain't  a  better  man 
in  England  than  is  that  Maypole  Hugh  yonder.  He 
ain't  fit  for  indoors,"  added  Mr.  Willet,  with  the 
confidential  air  of  a  man  who  felt  his  own  superior 
nature  ;  "  /  do  that ;  but  if  that  chap  had  only  a 
little  imagination,  sir  —  " 

''  He's  an  active  fellow  now,  I  dare  swear,"  said 
Mr.  Chester  in  a  musing  tone,  which  seemed  to  sug- 
gest that  he  would  have  said  the  same  had  there 
been  nobody  to  hear  him. 

"Active,  sir ! "  retorted  John,  with  quite  an  ex- 
pression in  his  face  ;  "  that  chap !  Hallo  there  ! 
You,  sir !     Bring  that  horse  here,  and  go  and  hang 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  329 

my  wig  on  the  weathercock,  to  show  this  gentleman 
whether  you're  one  of  the  lively  sort  or  not." 

Hugh  made  no  answer,  but  throwing  the  bridle  to 
his  master,  and  snatching  his  wig  from  his  head  in 
a  manner  so  unceremonious  and  hasty  that  the 
action  discomposed  Mr.  Willet  not  a  little,  though 
performed  at  his  own  special  desire,  climbed  nimbly 
to  the  very  summit  of  the  maypole  before  the  house, 
and  hanging  the  wig  upon  the  weathercock,  sent  it 
twirling  round  like  a  roasting-jack.  Having 
achieved  this  performance,  he  cast  it  on  the  ground, 
and  sliding  down  the  pole  with  inconceivable  rapid- 
ity, alighted  on  his  feet  almost  as  soon  as  it  had 
touched  the  earth.  • 

"  There,  sii-,"  said  John,  relapsing  into  his  usual 
stolid  state,  "you  won't  see  that  at  many  houses 
besides  the  Maypole,  where  there's  good  accommo- 
dation for  man  and  beast  —  nor  that  neither,  though 
that  with  him  is  nothing." 

This  last  remark  bore  reference  to  his  vaulting  on 
horseback,  as  upon  Mr.  Chester's  first  visit,  and 
quickly  disappearing  by  the  stable  gate. 

"  That  with  him  is  nothing,"  repeated  Mr.  Willet, 
brushing  his  wig  with  his  wrist,  and  inwardly  re- 
solving to  distribute  a  small  charge  for  dust  and 
damage  to  that  article  of  dress  through  the  various 
items  of  his  guest's  bill ;  "  he'll  get  out  of  a'most 
any  winder  in  the  house.  There  never  was  such  a 
chap  for  flinging  himself  about,  and  never  hurting 
his  bones.  It's  my  opinion,  sir,  that  it's  pretty 
nearly  all  owing  to  his  not  having  any  imagination ; 
and  that,  if  imagination  could  be  (which  it  can't) 
knocked  into  him,  he'd  never  be  able  to  do  it  any 
more.     But  we  was  a  talking,  sir,  about  my  son." 


330  BABNABY  KUDGE. 

"  True,  Willet,  true,"  said  his  visitor,  turning 
again  towards  the  landlord  Avith  his  accustomed 
serenity  of  face.  "  My  good  friend,  what  about 
him  ?  » 

It  has  been  repoxted  that  Mr.  Willet,  previously 
to  making  answer,  winked.  But,  as  he  never  was 
known  to  be  giiilty  of  such  lightness  of  conduct 
either  before  or  afterwards,  this  may  be  looked  upon 
as  a  malicious  invention  of  his  enemies  —  founded, 
perhaps,  upon  the  undisputed  circumstance  of  his 
taking  his  guest  by  the  third  breast-button  of  his 
coat,  counting  downwards  from  the  chin,  and  pour- 
ing his  reply  into  his  ear. 

<'  Sir,"  whispered  John  with  dignity,  "  I  know  my 
duty.  We  want  no  love-making  here,  sir,  unbe- 
known to  parents.  I  respect  a  certain  young  gen- 
tleman, taking  him  in  the  light  of  a  young  gentle- 
man ;  I  respect  a  certain  young  lady,  taking  her  in 
the  light  of  a  young  lady;  but  of  the  two  as  a 
couple  I  have  no  knowledge,  sir,  none  whatever. 
My  son,  sir,  is  upon  his  patrole." 

"I  thought  I  saw  him  looking  through  the  corner 
window  but  this  moment,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  who 
naturally  thought  that  being  on  patrole  implied 
walking  about  somewhere. 

"  No  doubt  you  did,  sir,"  returned  John.  "  He  is 
upon  his  patrole  of  honor,  sir,  not  to  leave  the 
premises.  Me  and  some  friends  of  mine  that  use 
the  Maypole  of  an  evening,  sir,  considered  what  was 
best  to  be  done  with  him  to  prevent  his  doing  any- 
thing unpleasant  in  opposing  your  desires ;  and 
we've  put  him  on  his  patrole.  And  what's  more, 
sir,  he  won't  be  off  his  patrole  for  a  pretty  long 
time  to  come,  I  can  tell  you  that." 


BARNABY   EUDGE.  331 

When  he  had  communicated  this  bright  idea, 
which  had  had  its  origin  in  the  perusal  by  the  vil- 
lage cronies  of  a  newspaper  containing,  among 
other  matters,  an  account  of  how  some  officer  pend- 
ing the  sentence  of  some  court-martial  had  been  en- 
larged on  parole,  Mr.  Willet  drew  back  from  his 
guest's  ear,  and,  without  any  visible  alteration  of 
feature,  chuckled  thrice  audibly.  This  nearest  ap- 
proach to  a  laugh  in  which  he  ever  indulged  (and 
that  but  seldom,  and  only  on  extreme  occasions), 
never  even  curled  his  lip  or  effected  the  smallest 
change  in  —  no,  not  so  much  as  a  slight  wagging  of 
—  his  great,  fat,  double  chin,  which  at  these  times, 
as  at  all  others,  remained  a  perfect  desert  in  the 
broad  map  of  his  face ;  one  changeless,  dull,  tremen- 
dous blank. 

Lest  it  should  be  matter  of  surprise  to  any  that 
Mr.  Willet  adopted  this  bold  course  in  opposition  to 
one  whom  he  had  often  entertained,  and  who  had 
always  paid  his  way  at  the  Maypole  gallantly,  it 
may  be  remarked  that  it  was  his  very  penetration 
and  sagacity  in  this  respect  which  occasioned  him 
to  indiilge  in  those  unusual  demonstrations  of  jocu- 
larity just  now  recorded.  For  Mr.  Willet,  after 
carefully  balancing  father  and  son  in  his  mental 
scales,  had  arrived  at  the  distinct  conclusion  that 
the  old  gentleman  was  a  better  sort  of  customer 
than  the  young  one.  Throwing  his  landlord  into 
the  same  scale,  which  was  already  turned  by  this 
consideration,  and  heaping  upon  him,  again,  his 
strong  desires  to  run  counter  to  the  unfortunate 
Joe,  and  his  opposition,  as  a  general  princixde,  to  all 
matters  of  love  and  matrimony,  it  went  down  to  the 
very  ground  straightway,  and  sent  the  light  cause  of 


332  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

the  younger  gentleman  flying  upwards  to  the  ceil- 
ing. Mr.  Chester  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  be  by 
any  means  dim-sighted  to  Mr.  Willet's  motives,  but 
he  thanked  him  as  graciously  as  if  he  had  been  one 
of  the  most  disinterested  martyrs  that  ever  shone 
on  earth ;  and  leaving  him,  with  many  complimen- 
tary reliances  on  his  great  taste  and  judgment,  to 
prepare  whatever  dinner  he  might  deem  most  fitting 
the  occasion,  bent  his  steps  towards  the  Warren. 

Dressed  with  more  than  his  usual  elegance ; 
assuming  a  gracefulness  of  manner  which,  though 
it  was  the  result  of  long  study,  sat  easily  upon  him 
and  became  him  well ;  composing  his  features  into 
their  most  serene  and  prepossessing  expression  ;  and 
setting,  in  short,  that  guard  upon  himself,  at  every 
point,  which  denoted  that  he  attached  no  slight  im- 
portance to  the  impression  he  was  about  to  make ; 
he  entered  the  bounds  of  Miss  Haredale's  usual 
walk.  He  had  not  gone  far,  or  looked  about  him 
long,  when  he  descried  coming  towards  him  a  female 
figure.  A  glimpse  of  the  form  and  dress,  as  she 
crossed  a  little  wooden  bridge  which  lay  between 
them,  satisfied  him  that  he  had  found  her  whom  he 
desired  to  see.  He  threw  himself  in  her  way,  and 
a  very  few  paces  brought  them  close  together. 

He  raised  his  hat  from  his  head,  and  yielding  the 
path,  suffered  her  to  pass  him.  Then,  as  if  the  idea 
had  but  that  moment  occurred  to  him,  he  turned 
hastily  back  and  said  in  an  agitated  voice,  — 

"  I  beg  pardon  —  do  I  address  Miss  Haredale  ?  " 

She  stopped  in  some  confusion  at  being  so  unex- 
pectedly accosted  by  a  stranger;  and  answered 
"  Yes." 

"  Something  told  me,"  he  said,  looking  a  compli- 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  333 

ment  to  her  beauty,  "that  it  could  be  no  other. 
Miss  Haredale,  I  bear  a  name  which  is  not  unknown 
to  you  — which  it  is  a  pride,  and  yet  a  pain  to  me  to 
know,  sounds  pleasantly  in  your  ears.  I  am  a  man 
advanced  in  life,  as  you  see.  I  am  the  father  of 
him  whom  you  honor  and  distinguish  above  all  other 
men.  May  I,  for  weighty  reasons  which  fill  me  with 
distress,  beg  but  a  minute's  conversation  with  you 
here  ?  " 

Who  that  was  inexperienced  in  deceit,  and  had  a 
frank  and  youthful  heart,  could  doubt  the  speaker's 
truth  —  could  doubt  it,  too,  when  the  voice  that 
spoke  was  like  the  faint  echo  of  one  she  knew  so 
well,  and  so  much  loved  to  hear  ?  She  inclined 
her  head,  and  stopping,  cast  her  eyes  upon  the 
ground. 

"  A  little  more  apart  —  among  these  trees.  It  is 
an  old  man's  hand.  Miss  Haredale  ;  an  honest  one, 
believe  me." 

She  put  hers  in  it  as  he  said  these  words,  and  suf- 
fered him  to  lead  her  to  a  neighboring  seat. 

"  You  alarm  me,  sir,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  You  are  not  the  bearer  of  any  ill  news,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Of  none  that  you  anticipate,"  he  answered,  sit- 
ting down  beside  her.  "Edward  is  well  —  quite 
well.  It  is  of  him  I  wish  to  speak,  certainly  ;  but 
I  have  no  misfortune  to  communicate." 

She  bowed  her  head  again,  and  made  as  though 
she  would  have  begged  him  to  proceed ;  but  said 
nothing. 

"I  am  sensible  that  I  speak  to  you  at  a  disad- 
vantage, dear  Miss  Haredale.  Believe  me  that  I  am 
not  so  forgetful  of  the  feelings  of  my  younger  days 
as  not  to  know  that  you  are  little  disposed  to  view 


334  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

me  with  favor.  You  have  heard  me  described  as 
cold-hearted,  calculating,  selfish  —  " 

"  I  have  never,  sir,"  she  interposed  with  an  altered 
manner  and  a  firmer  voice  ;  "  I  have  never  heard  you 
spoken  of  in  harsh  or  disrespectful  terms.  You  do 
a  great  wrong  to  Edward's  nature  if  you  believe  him 
capable  of  any  mean  or  base  proceeding." 

"Pardon  me,  my  sweet  young  lady,  but  your 
uncle  —  " 

"  Nor  is  it  my  uncle's  nature  either,"  she  replied, 
with  a  heightened  color  in  her  cheek,  "It  is  not 
his  nature  to  stab  in  the  dark,  nor  is  it  mine  to  love 
such  deeds." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  would  have  left  him ; 
but  he  detained  her  with  a  gentle  hand,  and  be- 
sought her  in  such  persuasive  accents  to  hear  him 
but  another  minute,  that  she  was  easily  prevailed 
upon  to  comply,  and  so  sat  down  again. 

"  And  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  looking  upward, 
and  apostrophizing  the  air :  "  it  is  this  frank,  in- 
genuous, noble  nature,  Ned,  that  you  can  wound  so 
lightly.     Shame  —  shame  upon  you,  boy  ! " 

She  turned  towards  him  quickly,  and  with  a  scorn- 
ful look  and  flashing  eyes.  There  were  tears  in  Mr. 
Chester's,  but  he  dashed  them  hurriedly  away,  as 
though  unwilling  that  his  weakness  shoidd  be 
known,  and  regarded  her  with  mingled  admiration 
and  compassion. 

"  I  never  until  now,"  he  said,  "  believed  that  the 
frivolous  actions  of  a  young  man  could  move  me 
like  these  of  my  own  son.  I  never  knew  till  now 
the  worth  of  a  woman's  heart,  which  boys  so  lightly 
win,  and  lightly  fling  away.  Trust  me,  dear  young 
lady,  that  I  never  until  now  did  know  your  worth  ; 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  335 

and  though  an  abhorrence  of  deceit  and  falsehood 
has  impelled  me  to  seek  you  out,  and  would  have 
done  so  had  you  been  the  poorest  and  least  gifted  of 
your  sex,  I  should  have  lacked  the  fortitude  to  sus- 
tain this  interview,  could  I  have  pictured  you  to  my 
imagination  as  you  really  are." 

Oh !  If  Mrs.  Varden  could  have  seen  the  virtu- 
ous gentleman  as  he  said  these  words,  with  indigna- 
tion sparkling  from  his  eyes  —  if  she  could  have 
heard  his  broken,  quavering  voice  —  if  she  could 
have  beheld  him  as  he  stood  bareheaded  in  the  sun- 
light, and  with  unwonted  energy  poured  forth  his 
eloquence  ! 

With  a  haughty  face,  but  pale  and  trembling  too, 
Emma  regarded  him  in  silence.  She  neither  spoke 
nor  moved,  but  gazed  upon  him  as  though  she  would 
look  into  his  heart. 

"  I  throw  off,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  "  the  restraint 
which  natural  affection  would  impose  on  some  men, 
and  reject  all  bonds  but  those  of  truth  and  duty. 
Miss  Haredale,  you  are  deceived ;  you  are  deceived 
by  your  unworthy  lover,  and  my  unworthy  son." 

Still  she  looked  at  him  steadily,  and  still  said  not 
one  word. 

"  I  have  ever  opposed  his  professions  of  love  for 
you ;  you  will  do  me  the  justice,  dear  Miss  Hare- 
dale,  to  remember  that.  Your  uncle  and  my.self 
were  enemies  in  early  life,  and  if  I  had  sought  retal- 
iation, I  might  have  found  it  here.  But,  as  we 
grow  older,  we  grow  wiser  —  better,  I  would  fain 
hope  —  and  from  the  first  I  have  opposed  him  in 
this  attempt.  I  foresaw  the  end,  and  would  have 
spared  you  if  I  could." 

*'  Speak  plainly,  sir,"  she  faltered.     *'  You  deceive 


336  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

me,  or  are  deceived  yourself.  I  do  not  believe  you  — 
I  cannot  —  I  should  not." 

"  First,"  said  Mr.  Chester  soothingly,  "  for  there 
may  be  in  your  mind  some  latent  angry  feeling  to 
which  I  would  not  appeal,  pray  take  this  letter. 
It  reached  my  hands  by  chance,  and  by  mistake,  and 
should  have  accounted  to  you  (as  I  am  told)  for  my 
son's  not  answering  some  other  note  of  yours.  God 
forbid.  Miss  Haredale,"  said  the  good  gentleman 
with  great  emotion,  "  that  there  should  be  in  your 
gentle  breast  one  causeless  ground  of  quarrel  with 
him.  You  should  know,  and  you  will  see,  that  he 
was  in  no  fault  here." 

There  appeared  something  so  very  candid,  so 
scrupidously  honorable,  so  very  truthful  and  just  in 
this  course  —  something  which  rendered  the  upright 
person  who  resorted  to  it  so  worthy  of  belief  —  that 
Emma's  heart,  for  the  first  time,  sunk  within  her. 
She  turned  away,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  would,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  leaning  over  her,  and 
speaking  in  mild  and  venerable  accents;  "I  would, 
dear  girl,  it  were  my  task  to  banish,  not  increase, 
those  tokens  of  your  grief.  My  son,  my  erring  son,  — 
I  will  not  call  him  deliberately  criminal  in  this,  for 
men  so  young,  who  have  been  inconstant  twice  or 
thrice  before,  act  without  reflecting,  almost  without 
a  knowledge  of  the  wrong  they  do,  —  will  break 
his  [(lighted  faith  to  you ;  has  broken  it  even  now. 
Shall  I  stop  here,  PvUd,  having  given  you  this  warn- 
ing, leave  it  to  be  fulfilled;  or  shall  I  go  on  ?" 

"  You  will  go  on,  sir,"  she  answered,  "  and  speak 
more  plainly  yet  in  justice  both  to  him  and  me." 

"  ^ly  dear  girl,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  bending  over 
her  more  affectionately  still ;  "  whom  I  would  call  my 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  337 

daughter,  but  the  Fates  forbid,  Edward  seeks  to 
break  with  you  upon  a  false  and  most  unwarrant- 
able pretence.  I  have  it  on  his  own  showing;  in 
his  own  hand.  Forgive  me  if  I  have  had  a  watch 
upon  his  conduct ;  I  am  his  father ;  I  had  a  regard 
for  your  peace  and  his  honor,  and  no  better  resource 
was  left  me.  There  lies  on  his  desk  at  this  mo- 
ment, ready  for  transmission  to  you,  a  letter  in 
which  he  tells  you  that  our  poverty  —  our  poverty ; 
his  and  mine,  Miss  Haredale  —  forbids  him  to 
pursue  his  claim  upon  your  hand;  in  which  he 
offers,  voluntarily  proposes,  to  free  you  from 
your  pledge ;  and  talks  magnanimously  (men 
do  so,  very  commonly,  in  such  cases)  of  being  in 
time  more  worthy  your  regard  —  and  so  forth.  A 
letter,  to  be  plain,  in  which  he  not  only  jilts  you  — 
pardon  the  word ;  I  would  summon  to  your  aid  your 
pride  and  dignity  —  not  only  jilts  you,  I  fear,  in 
favor  of  the  object  whose  slighting  treatment  first 
inspired  his  brief  passion  for  yourself,  and  gave  it 
birth  in  wounded  vanity,  but  affects  to  make  a  merit 
and  a  virtue  of  the  act." 

She  glanced  proudly  at  him  once  more,  as  by  an 
involuntary  impulse,  and  with  a  swelling  breast  re- 
joined, "  If  what  you  say  be  true,  he  takes  much  need- 
less trouble,  sir,  to  compass  his  design.  He  is  very 
tender  of  my  peace  of  mind.     I  quite  thank  him.'' 

"  The  truth  of  what  I  tell  you,  dear  young  lady," 
he  replied,  "you  will  test  by  the  receipt  or  non- 
receipt  of  the  letter  of  which  I  speak.  —  Haredale, 
my  dear  fellow,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  although 
we  meet  under  singular  circumstances,  and  upon  a 
melancholy  occasion.     I  hope  you  are  very  well." 

At  these  words  the  young  lady  raised  her  eyes, 
VOL.  I. -22. 


338  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

which  were  filled  with  tears ;  and  seeing  that  her 
uncle  indeed  stood  before  them,  and  being  quite  un- 
equal to  the  trial  of  hearing  or  of  speaking  one 
word  more,  hurriedly  withdrew,  and  left  them. 
They  stood  looking  at  each  other,  and  at  her  retreat- 
ing figure,  and  for  a  long  time  neither  of  them 
spoke. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  Explain  it,"  said  Mr. 
Haredale  at  length.  "  Why  are  3'ou  here,  and  why 
with  her  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,"  rejoined  the  other,  resuming 
his  accustomed  manner  with  infinite  readiness,  and 
throwing  himself  upon  the  bench  with  a  Aveary  air, 
"  you  told  me  not  very  long  ago,  at  that  delightful 
old  tavern  of  which  you  are  the  esteemed  proprie- 
tor (and  a  most  charming  establishment  it  is  for 
persons  of  rural  pursuits  and  in  robust  health,  who 
are  not  liable  to  take  cold),  that  I  had  the  head  and 
heart  of  an  evil  spirit  in  all  matters  of  deception. 
I  thought  at  the  time  ;  I  really  did  think;  you  flat- 
tered me.  But  now  I  begin  to  wonder  at  your  dis- 
cernment, and,  vanity  apart,  do  honestly  believe  you 
spoke  the  truth.  Did  you  ever  counterfeit  extreme 
ingenuousness  and  honest  indignation  ?  My  dear 
fellow,  you  have  no  conception,  if  you  never  did, 
how  faint  the  effort  makes  one." 

Mr.  Haredale  surveyed  him  with  a  look  of  cold 
contempt.  "  You  may  evade  an  explanation,  I 
know,"  he  said,  folding  his  arms.  ''Bat  I  must 
have  it.     I  can  wait." 

"Not  at  all.  Not  at  all,  my  good  fellow.  You 
shall  not  wait  a  moment,"  returned  his  friend,  as  he 
lazily  crossed  his  legs.  "The  simplest  thing  in  the 
world.     It  lies  in  a  nutshell.     Ned  has  written  her 


BARNABY   EUDGE.  339 

a  letter  —  a  boyish,  honest,  sentimental  composition, 
which  remains  as  yet  in  his  desk,  because  he  hasn't 
had  the  heart  to  send  it.  I  have  taken  the  liberty, 
for  which  my  parental  affection  and  anxiety  are  a 
sufficient  excuse,  and  possessed  myself  of  the  con- 
tents. I  have  described  them  to  your  niece  (a  most 
enchanting  person,  Haredale ;  quite  an  angelic  crea- 
ture), with  a  little  coloring  and  description  adapted 
to  our  purpose.  It's  done.  You  may  be  quite  easy. 
It's  all  over.  Deprived  of  their  adherents  and  medi 
ators  ;  her  pride  and  jealousy  roused  to  the  utmost ; 
with  nobody  to  undeceive  her,  and  you  to  contirra 
me ;  you  will  find  that  their  intercourse  will  close 
with  her  answer.  If  she  receives  Ned's  letter  by 
to-morrow  noon,  you  may  date  their  parting  from  to- 
morrow night.  No  thanks,  I  beg ;  you  owe  me  none. 
I  have  acted  for  myself;  and  if  I  have  forwarded 
our  compact  Avith  all  the  ardor  even  you  could  have 
desired,  I  have  done  so  selfishly,  indeed." 

"  I  curse  the  compact,  as  you  call  it,  with  my 
whole  heart  and  soul,"  returned  the  other.  "  It  was 
made  in  an  evil  hour.  I  have  bound  myself  to  a  lie ; 
I  have  leagued  myself  with  you  ;  and  though  I  did 
so  with  a  righteous  motive,  and  though  it  cost  me 
such  an  effort  as  haply  few  men  know,  I  hate  and 
despise  myself  for  the  deed." 

''  You  are  very  warm,"  said  Mr.  Chester  with  a 
languid  smile. 

"  I  am  warm.  I  am  maddened  by  your  coldness. 
'Death,  Chester,  if  your  blood  ran  warmer  in  your 
veins,  and  there  were  no  restraints  upon  me,  such  as 
those  that  hold  and  drag  me  back  —  Well,  it  is 
done ;  you  tell  me  so,  and  on  such  a  point  I  may  be- 
lieve you.     When  I  am  most  remorseful  for  this 


340  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

treachery,  I  will  think  of  you  and  your  marriage, 
and  try  to  justify  myself  in  such  remembrances  for 
having  torn  asunder  Emma  and  your  son,  at  any 
cost.     Our  bond  is  cancelled  now,  and  we  may  part." 

Mr.  Chester  kissed  his  hand  gracefully  ;  and  with 
the  same  tranquil  face  he  had  preserved  throughout 
—  even  when  he  had  seen  his  companion  so  tortured 
and  transported  by  his  passion  that  his  whole  frame 
was  shaken  —  lay  in  his  lounging  posture  on  the 
seat,  and  watched  him  as  he  walked  away. 

"  My  scapegoat  and  my  drudge  at  school,"  he  said, 
raising  his  head  to  look  after  him  ;  "  my  friend  of 
later  days,  who  could  not  keep  his  mistress  when  he 
had  won  her,  and  threw  me  in  her  way  to  carry  off 
the  prize ;  I  triumph  in  the  present  and  the  past. 
Bark  on,  ill-favored,  ill-conditioned  cur  ;  fortune  has 
ever  been  with  me  —  I  like  to  hear  you." 

The  spot  where  they  had  met  was  in  an  avenue 
of  trees.  Mr.  Haredale,  not  passing  out  on  either 
hand,  had  walked  straight  on.  He  chanced  to  turn 
his  head  when  at  some  considerable  distance,  and 
seeing  that  his  late  companion  had  by  that  time 
risen  and  was  looking  after  him,  stood  still,  as 
though  he  half  expected  him  to  follow,  and  waited 
for  his  coming  up. 

"  It  may  come  to  that  one  day,  but  not  yet,"  said 
Mr.  Chester,  waving  his  hand,  as  though  they  were 
the  best  of  friends,  and  turning  away.  "Not  yet, 
Haredale.  Life  is  pleasant  enough  to  me ;  dull  and 
full  of  heaviness  to  j^ou.  No.  To  cross  swords  with 
such  a  man  —  to  indulge  his  humor  unless  upon  ex- 
tremity—  would  be  weak  indeed." 

For  all  that,  he  drew  his  sword  as  he  walked 
along,  and  in  an  absent  humor  ran  his  eye  from  hilt 


BABNABY  EUDGE.  341 

to  point  full  twenty  times.  But  thoughtfulness 
begets  wrinkles.  Remembering  this,  he  soon  put  it 
up,  smoothed  his  contracted  brow,  hummed  a  gay 
tune  with  greater  gayety  of  manner,  and  was  his 
unruffled  self  again. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  HOMELY  proverb  recognizes  the  existence  of  a 
troublesome  class  of  persons  who,  having  an  inch 
conceded  them,  will  take  an  ell.  Not  to  quote  the 
illustrious  examples  of  those  heroic  scourges  of 
mankind,  whose  amiable  path  in  life  has  been  from 
birth  to  death  through  blood,  and  fire,  and  ruin,  and 
who  would  seem  to  have  existed  for  no  better  pur- 
pose than  to  teach  mankind  that  as  the  absence  of 
pain  is  pleasure,  so  the  earth,  purged  of  their  pres- 
ence, may  be  deemed  a  blessed  place  —  not  to  quote 
such  mighty  instances,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  refer 
to  old  John  Willet. 

Old  John  having  long  encroached  a  good  standard 
inch,  full  measure,  on  the  liberty  of  Joe,  and  having 
snipped  off  a  Flemish  ell  in  the  matter  of  the  parole, 
grew  so  despotic  and  so  great  that  his  thirst  for  con- 
quest knew  no  bounds.  The  more  young  Joe  sub- 
mitted, the  more  absolute  old  John  became.  The 
ell  soon  faded  into  nothing.  Yards,  furlongs,  miles 
arose ;  and  on  went  old  John  in  the  pleasantest 
manner  possible,  trimming  off  an  exuberance  in 
this  place,  shearing  away  some  liberty  of  speech 
or  action  in  that,  and  conducting  himself  in  his 
small  way  with  as  much  high  mightiness  and  ma- 
jesty as  the  most  glorious  tyrant  that  ever  had  his 
342 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  343 

statue  reared  in  the  public  "vvays,  of   ancient  or  of 
modern  times. 

As  great  men  are  urged  on  to  the  abuse  of  power 
(when  they  need  urging,  which  is  not  often)  by  their 
flatterers  and  dependants,  so  old  John  was  impelled 
to  these  exercises  of  authority  by  the  applause  and 
admiration  of  his  Maypole  cronies,  who,  in  the  in- 
tervals of  their  nightly  pipes  and  pots,  would  shake 
their  heads  and  say  that  Mr.  Willet  was  a  father  of 
the  good  old  English  sort ;  that  there  were  no  new- 
fangled notions  or  modern  ways  in  him;  that  he 
put  them  in  mind  of  what  their  fathers  were  when 
they  were  boys ;  that  there  was  no  mistake  about 
him ;  that  it  would  be  well  for  the  country  if  there 
were  more  like  him,  and  more  was  the  pity  that 
there  were  not ;  with  many  other  original  remarks 
of  that  nature.  Then  they  would  condescendingly 
give  Joe  to  understand  that  it  was  all  for  his  good, 
and  he  would  be  thankful  for  it  one  day ;  and,  in 
particular,  Mr.  Cobb  would  acquaint  him  that  when 
he  was  his  age,  his  father  thought  no  more  of  giving 
him  a  parental  kick,  or  a  box  on  the  ears,  or  a  cuff 
on  the  head,  or  some  little  admonition  of  that  sort, 
than  he  did  of  any  other  ordinary  duty  of  life  ;  and 
he  would  further  remark,  with  looks  of  great  signifi- 
cance, that  but  for  this  judicious  bringing  up,  he 
might  have  never  been  the  man  he  was  at  that  pres- 
ent speaking ;  which  was  probable  enough,  as  he 
was,  beyond  all  question,  the  dullest  dog  of  the 
party.  In  short,  between  old  John,  and  old  John's 
friends,  there  never  was  an  unfortunate  young  fel- 
low so  bullied,  badgered,  worried,  fretted,  and  brow- 
beaten ;  so  constantly  beset,  or  made  so  tired  of  his 
life,  as  poor  Joe  Willet. 


344  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

This  had  come  to  be  the  recognized  and  estab- 
lished state  of  things ;  but,  as  John  was  very  anx- 
ious to  flourish  his  supremacy  before  the  eyes  of 
Mr.  Chester,  he  did  that  day  exceed  himself,  and 
did  so  goad  and  chafe  his  son  and  heir,  that  but  for 
Joe's  having  made  a  solemn  vow  to  keep  his  hands 
in  his  pockets  when  they  were  not  otherwise  en- 
gaged, it  is  impossible  to  say  what  he  might  have 
done  with  them.  But  the  longest  day  has  an  end, 
and  at  length  Mr.  Chester  came  downstairs  to  mount 
his  horse,  which  was  ready  at  the  door. 

As  old  John  was  not  in  the  way  at  the  moment, 
Joe,  who  was  sitting  in  the  bar  ruminating  on  his 
dismal  fate  and  the  manifold  perfections  of  Dolly 
Varden,  ran  out  to  hold  the  guest's  stirrup,  and  to 
assist  him  to  mount.  Mr.  Chester  was  scarcely  in 
the  saddle,  and  Joe  was  in  the  very  act  of  making 
him  a  graceful  bow,  when  old  John  came  diving  out 
of  the  porch,  and  collared  him. 

"  None  of  that,  sir,"  said  John,  "  none  of  that,  sir. 
No  breaking  of  patroles.  How  dare  you  come  out 
of  the  door,  sir,  without  leave  ?  You're  trying  to 
get  away,  sir,  are  you,  and  to  make  a  traitor  of  your- 
self again  ?     What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go,  father,"  said  Joe  imploringly,  as  he 
marked  the  smile  upon  their  visitor's  face,  and  ob- 
served the  pleasure  his  disgrace  afforded  him. 
"This  is  too  bad.     Who  wants  to  get  away?" 

"  Who  wants  to  get  away  ?  "  cried  John,  shaking 
him.  "  Why  you  do,  sir,  you  do.  You're  the  boy, 
sir,"  added  John,  collaring  with  one  hand,  and 
aiding  the  effect  of  a  farewell  bow  to  the  visitor 
with  the  other,  "  that  wants  to  sneak  into  houses, 
and  stir   up   differences  between   noble   gentlemen 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  345 

and  their  sons,  are  you,  eh  ?  Hold  your  tongue, 
sir." 

Joe  made  no  effort  to  reply.  It  was  the  crowning 
circumstance  of  his  degradation.  He  extricated 
himself  from  his  father's  grasp,  darted  an  angry 
look  at  the  departing  guest,  and  returned  into  the 
house. 

"  But  for  her,"  thought  Joe,  as  he  threw  his  arms 
upon  a  table  in  the  common  room,  and  laid  his  head 
upon  them,  "but  for  Dolly,  who  I  couldn't  bear 
should  think  me  the  rascal  they  would  make  me 
out  to  be  if  I  ran  away,  this  house  and  I  should  part 
to-night." 

It  being  evening  by  this  time,  Solomon  Daisy, 
Tom  Cobb,  and  Long  Parkes  were  all  in  the  common 
room  too,  and  had  from  the  window  been  witnesses 
of  what  had  just  occurred.  Mr.  Willet,  joining 
them  soon  afterwards,  received  the  compliments  of 
the  company  with  great  composure,  and  lighting  his 
pipe,  sat  down  among  them. 

"  We'll  see,  gentlemen,"  said  John  after  a  long 
pause,  "  who's  the  master  of  this  house,  and  who 
isn't.  We'll  see  whether  boys  are  to  govern  men,  or 
men  are  to  govern  boys." 

"  And  quite  right,  too,"  assented  Solomon  Daisy 
with  some  approving  nods  ;  "  quite  right,  Johnny. 
Very  good,  Johnny.  Well  said,  Mr.  Willet.  Brayvo, 
sir." 

John  slowly  brought  his  eyes  to  bear  upon  him, 
looked  at  him  for  a  long  time,  and  finally  made 
answer,  to  the  unspeakable  consternation  of  his 
hearers,  "  When  I  want  encouragement  from  you, 
sir,  I'll  ask  you  for  it.  You  let  me  alone,  sir.  I  can 
get  on  without  you,  I  hope.  Don't  you  tackle  me, 
sir,  if  you  please." 


346  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

"  Don't  take  it  ill,  Johnny ;  I  didn't  mean  any 
harm,"  pleaded  the  little  man. 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  John,  more  than  usually 
obstinate  after  his  late  success.  "  Never  mind,  sir. 
I  can  stand  pretty  firm  of  myself,  sir,  I  believe, 
without  being  shored  up  by  you."  And,  having 
given  utterance  to  this  retort,  Mr.  Willet  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  the  boiler,  and  fell  into  a  kind  of  tobacco- 
trance. 

The  spirits  of  the  company  being  somewhat 
damped  by  this  embarrassing  line  of  conduct  on  the 
part  of  their  host,  nothing  more  was  said  for  a  long 
time ;  but  at  length  Mr.  Cobb  took  upon  himself 
to  remark,  as  he  rose  to  knock  the  ashes  out  of 
his  pipe,  that  he  hoped  Joe  would  thenceforth 
learn  to  obey  his  father  in  all  things ;  that  he  had 
found,  that  day,  he  was  not  one  of  the  sort  of  men 
who  were  to  be  trifled  with ;  and  that  he  would  rec- 
ommend him,  poetically  speaking,  to  mind  his  eye 
for  the  future. 

"  I'd  recommend  you,  in  return,"  said  Joe,  looking 
up  with  a  flushed  face,  "  not  to  talk  to  me." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  cried  iMr.  Willet,  sud- 
denly rousing  himself,  and  turning  round. 

"I  won't,  father,"  cried  Joe,  smiting  the  table 
with  his  fist,  so  that  the  jugs  and  glasses  rung 
again ;  "  these  things  are  hard  enough  to  bear  from 
you ;  from  anybody  else  I  never  will  endure  them 
any  more.  Therefore  I  say,  Mr.  Cobb,  don't  talk 
to  me." 

"Why,  who  are  you,"  said  My.  Cobb  sneeringly, 
"  that  you're  not  to  be  talked  to,  eh,  Joe  ?  " 

To  wliieli  Joe  returned  no  answer,  but,  with  a  very 
ominous  shake  of  the  head,  resumed  his  old  position, 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  347 

wliich  he  would  have  peacefully  preserved  until  the 
house  shut  up  at  night,  but  that  Mr.  Cobb,  stimu- 
lated by  the  wonder  of  the  company  at  the  young 
man's  presumption,  retorted  with  sundry  taunts, 
which  proved  too  much  for  flesh  and  blood  to  bear. 
Crowding  into  one  moment  the  vexation  and  the 
wrath  of  years,  Joe  started  up,  overturned  the  table, 
fell  upon  his  long  enemy,  pommelled  him  with  all 
his  might  and  main,  and  finished  by  driving  him 
with  surprising  swiftness  against  a  heap  of  spittoons 
m  one  corner ;  plunging  into  which,  head  foremost, 
with  a  tremendous  crash,  he  lay  at  full  length  among 
the  ruins,  stunned  and  motionless.  Then,  without 
waiting  to  receive  the  compliments  of  the  bystanders 
on  the  victory  he  had  won,  he  retreated  to  his  own 
bedchamber,  and  considering  himself  in  a  state  of 
siege,  piled  all  the  portable  furniture  against  the 
door  by  way  of  barricade. 

"  I  have  done  it  now,"  said  Joe,  as  he  sat  down 
upon  his  bedstead  and  wiped  his  heated  face.  "  I 
knew  it  would  come  at  last.  The  Maypole  and  I 
must  part  company.  I'm  a  roving  vagabond  —  she 
hates  me  forevermore  —  it's  all  over!" 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

PoNDKRTXG  on  his  unhappy  lot,  Joe  sat  and  lis- 
tened for  a  long  time,  expecting  every  moment  to 
hear  their  creaking  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  or  to  be 
greeted  by  his  worthy  father  with  a  summons  to 
capitulate  unconditionally,  and  deliver  himself  up 
straightway.  But  neither  voice  nor  footstep  came  ; 
and  though  some  distant  echoes,  as  of  closing  doors 
and  people  hurrying  in  and  out  of  rooms,  resounding 
from  time  to  time  through  the  great  passages,  and 
penetrating  to  his  remote  seclusion,  gave  note  of 
unusual  commotion  downstairs,  no  nearer  sound  dis- 
turbed his  place  of  retreat,  which  seemed  the  quieter 
for  these  far-off  noises,  and  was  as  dull  and  full  of 
gloom  as  any  hermit's  cell. 

It  came  on  darker  and  darker.  The  old-fashioned 
furniture  of  the  chamber,  which  was  a  kind  of  hos- 
pital for  all  the  invalided  movables  in  the  house, 
grew  indistinct  and  shadowy  in  its  many  shapes  ; 
chairs  and  tables,  which  by  day  were  as  honest 
cripples  as  need  be,  assumed  a  doubtful  and  mysteri- 
ous character ;  and  one  old  leprous  screen  of  faded 
India  leather  and  gold  binding,  which  had  kept  out 
many  a  cold  breath  of  air  in  days  of  yore,  and  shut 
in  many  a  jolly  face,  frowned  on  him  with  a  spectral 
aspect,  and  stood  at  full  height  in  its  allotted  corner, 
348 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  349 

like  some  gaunt  ghost  who  waited  to  be  questioned. 
A  portrait  opposite  the  window  —  a  queer,  old  gi'ay- 
eyed  general,  in  an  oval  frame  —  seemed  to  wink  and 
doze  as  the  light  decayed,  and  at  length,  when  the 
last  faint  glimmering  speck  of  day  went  out,  to  shut 
its  eyes  in  good  earnest,  and  fall  sound  asleep. 
There  was  such  a  hush  and  mystery  about  every- 
thing, that  Joe  could  not  help  following  its  exam- 
ple ;  and  so  went  off  into  a  slumber  likewise,  and 
dreamed  of  Dolly,  till  the  clock  of  Chigwell  Church 
struck  two. 

Still  nobody  came.  The  distant  noises  in  the 
house  had  ceased,  and  out  of  doors  all  was  quiet 
too,  save  for  the  occasional  barking  of  some  deep- 
mouthed  dog,  and  the  shaking  of  the  branches  by 
the  night  wind.  He  gazed  mournfully  out  of  win- 
dow at  each  well-known  object  as  it  lay  sleeping  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  moon  ;  and  creeping  back  to 
his  former  seat,  thought  about  the  late  uproar,  until, 
with  long  thinking  of,  it  seemed  to  have  occurred  a 
month  ago.  Thus,  between  dozing,  and  thinking, 
and  walking  to  the  window  and  looking  out,  the 
night  wore  away ;  the  grim  old  screen,  and  the 
kindred  chairs  and  tables,  began  slowly  to  reveal 
themselves  in  their  accustomed  forms ;  the  gray- 
eyed  general  seemed  to  wink  and  yawn  and  rouse 
himself ;  and  at  last  he  was  broad  awake  again,  and 
very  uncomfortable  and  cold  and  haggard  he  looked 
in  the  dull  gray  light  of  morning. 

The  sun  had  begun  to  peep  above  the  forest  trees, 
and  already  flung  across  the  curling  mist  bi'ight 
bars  of  gold,  when  Joe  dropped  from  his  vv'indow, 
on  the  ground  below,  a  little  bundle  and  his  trusty 
stick,  and  prepared  to  descend  himself. 


350  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

It  was  not  a  very  difiicult  task ;  for  there  were 
so  many  projections  and  gable-ends  in  the  way,  that 
they  formed  a  series  of  clumsy  steps,  with  no  greater 
obstacle  than  a  jump  of  some  few  feet  at  last.  Joe, 
w4th  his  stick  and  bundle  on  his  shoulder,  quickly 
stood  on  the  firm  earth,  and  looked  up  at  the  old 
Maypole,  it  might  be  for  the  last  time. 

He  didn't  apostrophize  it,  for  he  was  no  great 
scholar.  He  didn't  curse  it,  for  he  had  little  ill  will 
to  give  to  anything  on  earth.  He  felt  more  affec- 
tionate and  kind  to  it  than  ever  he  had  done  in  all 
his  life  before,  so  said  with  all  his  heart,  "  God 
bless  you  ! "  as  a  parting  wish,  and  turned  away. 

He  walked  along  at  a  brisk  pace,  big  with  great 
thoughts  of  going  for  a  soldier,  and  dying  in  some 
foreign  country  where  it  was  very  hot  and  sandy, 
and  leaving  God  knows  what  unheard-of  wealth  in 
prize-money  to  Dolly,  who  would  be  very  much 
affected  when  she  came  to  know  of  it ;  and  full  of 
such  youthful  visions,  which  were  sometimes  san- 
guine and  sometimes  melancholy,  but  always  had 
her  for  their  main  point  and  centre,  pushed  on  vig- 
orously until  the  noise  of  London  sounded  in  his 
ears,  and  the  Black  Lion  hove  in  sight. 

It  was  only  eight  o'clock  then,  and  very  much 
astonished  the  Black  Lion  was  to  see  him  come 
walking  in  with  dust  upon  his  feet  at  that  early 
hour,  with  no  gray  mare  to  bear  him  company.  But 
as  he  ordered  breakfast  to  be  got  ready  Avith  all 
speed,  and,  on  its  being  set  before  him,  gave  indis- 
putable tokens  of  a  hearty  appetite,  the  Lion  re- 
ceived him,  as  usual,  with  a  hospitable  welcome ; 
and  treated  him  with  those  marks  of  distinction 
which,    as    a   regular    customer,    and    one    within 


BABNABY  EUDGE.  351 

the  freemasonry  of  the  trade,  he  had  a  right  to 
claim. 

This  Lion,  or  landlord,  —  for  he  was  called  both 
man  and  beast,  by  reason  of  his  having  instructed 
the  artist  who  painted  his  sign  to  convey  into  the 
features  of  the  lordly  brute  whose  effigy  it  bore,  as 
near  a  counterpart  of  his  own  face  as  his  skill  could 
compass  and  devise,  —  was  a  gentleman  almost  as 
quick  of  apprehension,  and  of  almost  as  subtle  a 
wit,  as  the  mighty  John  himself.  But  the  difference 
between  them  lay  in  this  :  that  whereas  Mr.  Willet's 
extreme  sagacity  and  acuteness  were  the  efforts  of 
unassisted  nature,  the  Lion  stood  indebted,  in  no 
small  amount,  to  beer ;  of  which  he  swigged  such 
copious  draughts,  that  most  of  his  faculties  were 
utterly  drowned  and  washed  away,  except  the  one 
great  faculty  of  sleep,  which  he  retained  in  surpris- 
ing perfection.  The  creaking  Lion  over  the  house- 
door  was,  therefore,  to  say  the  truth,  rather  a 
drowsy,  tame,  and  feeble  lion ;  and,  as  these  social 
representatives  of  a  savage  class  are  usually  of  a 
conventional  character  (being  depicted,  for  the  most 
part,  in  impossible  attitudes  and  of  unearthly  colors), 
he  was  frequently  supposed,  by  the  more  ignorant 
and  uninformed  among  the  neighbors,  to  be  the 
veritable  portrait  of  the  host  as  he  appeared  on  the 
occasion  of  some  great  funeral  ceremony  or  public 
mourning. 

'*  What  noisy  fellow  is  that  in  the  next  room  ?  " 
said  Joe,  when  he  had  disposed  of  his  breakfast,  and 
had  washed  and  brushed  himself. 

"A  recruiting  sergeant,"  replied  the  Lion, 

Joe  started  involuntarily.  Here  was  the  very 
thing  he  had  been  dreaming  of  all  the  way  along. 


352  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

"And  I  wish,"  said  the  Lion,  "he  was  anywhere 
else  but  here.  The  party  make  noise  enough,  but 
they  don't  call  for  much.  There's  great  cry  there, 
Mr.  Willet,  but  very  little  wool.  Your  father 
wouldn't  like  'em,  /  know." 

Perhaps  not  much  under  any  circumstances. 
Perhaps,  if  he  could  have  known  what  was  passing 
at  that  moment  in  Joe's  mind,  he  would  have  liked 
them  still  less. 

"Is  he  recruiting  for  a  —  for  a  fine  regiment  ?" 
said  Joe,  glancing  at  a  little  round  mirror  that  hung 
in  the  bar. 

"  I  believe  he  is,"  replied  the  host.  "  It's  much 
the  same  thing,  whatever  regiment  he's  recruiting 
for.  I'm  told  there  ain't  a  deal  of  difference  be- 
tween a  fine  man  and  another  one  when  they're 
shot  through  and  through." 

"  They're  not  all  shot,"  said  Joe. 

"No,"  the  Lion  answered,  "not  all.  Those  that 
are  —  supposing  it's  done  easy  —  are  the  best  off  in 
my  opinion." 

"  Ah ! "  retorted  Joe,  "  but  you  don't  care  for 
glory." 

"  For  what  ?  "  said  the  Lion. 

«  Glory." 

"  No,"  returned  the  Lion  with  supreme  indiffer- 
ence. "  I  don't.  You're  right  in  that,  jVIr.  Willet. 
When  Glory  comes  here,  and  calls  for  anything  to 
drink,  and  changes  a  guinea  to  pay  for  it,  I'll  give  it 
him  for  nothing.  It's  my  belief,  sir,  that  the 
Glory's  Arms  wouldn't  do  a  very  strong  business." 

These  remarks  were  not  at  all  comforting.  Joe 
walked  out,  stopped  at  the  door  of  the  next  room, 
and  listened.  The  sergeant  was  describing  a  military 


BARXABY   EUDGE.  35 S 

life.  It  was  all  drinking,  he  said,  except  that  there 
were  frequent  intervals  of  eating  and  love-making. 
A  battle  was  the  finest  thing  in  the  world  —  when 
your  side  won  it  —  and  Englishmen  always  did  that. 
"  Supposing  you  should  be  killed,  sir  ?  ''  said  a  timid 
voice  in  one  corner.  "Well,  sir,  supposing  you 
should  be,"  said  the  sergeant,  "  what  then  ?  Your 
country  loves  you,  sir;  his  Majesty  King  George 
the  Third  loves  you ;  your  memory  is  honored,  re- 
vered, respected ;  everybody's  fond  of  you,  and 
grateful  to  you ;  your  name's  wrote  doAvn  at  full 
length  in  a  book  in  the  War  Office.  Damme,  gen- 
tlemen, we  must  all  die  some  time  or  another,  eh  ?  " 

The  voice  coughed,  and  said  no  more. 

Joe  walked  into  the  room.  A  group  of  half  a 
dozen  fellows  had  gathered  together  in  the  taproom, 
and  were  listening  with  greedy  ears.  One  of  them, 
a  carter  in  a  smock-frock,  seemed  wavering  and  dis- 
posed to  enlist.  The  rest,  who  were  by  no  means 
disposed,  strongly  urged  him  to  do  so  (according  to 
the  custom  of  mankind),  backed  the  sergeant's  argu- 
ments, and  grinned  among  themselves.  "I  say 
nothing,  boys,"  said  the  sergeant,  who  sat  a  little 
apart  drinking  his  liquor.  "  For  lads  of  spirit  "  — 
here  he  cast  an  eye  on  Joe  —  "  this  is  the  time.  I 
don't  want  to  inveigle  you.  The  king's  not  come  to 
that,  I  hope.  Brisk  young  blood  is  what  we  want ; 
not  milk  and  water.  We  won't  take  five  men  out 
of  six.  We  want  top-sawyers,  we  do.  I'm  not 
a-going  to  tell  tales  out  of  school,  but,  damme,  if 
every  gentleman's  son  that  carries  arms  in  our 
corps,  through  being  under  a  cloud  and  having  little 
differences  with  his  relations,  was  counted  up  — " 
Here. his  eye  fell   on  Joe   again,  and  so   good-na- 

VOL.  I.-23. 


354  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

turedl}'-,  that  Joe  beckoned  him  out.  He  came 
directly. 

"  You're  a  gentleman,  by  G —  !  "  was  his  first 
remark,  as  he  slapped  him  on  the  back.  "  You're  a 
gentleman  in  disguise.  So  am  I.  Let's  swear  a 
friendship." 

Joe  didn't  exactly  do  that,  but  he  shook  hands 
with  him,  and  thanked  him  for  his  good  opinion. 

*'  You  want  to  serve,"  said  his  new  friend.  ''  You 
shall.  You  were  made  for  it.  You're  one  of  us  by 
nature.     What'll  you  take  to  drink  ?  " 

"  Nothing  just  now,"  replied  Joe,  smiling  faintly. 
"  I  haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind." 

*'  A  mettlesome  fellow  like  you,  and  not  made  up 
his  mind  ! "  cried  the  sergeant.  "  Here  —  let  me 
give  the  bell  a  pull,  and  you'll  make  up  your  mind 
in  half  a  minute,  I  know." 

**  You're  right  so  far,"  answered  Joe,  "■  for  if  you 
pull  the  bell  here,  where  I'm  known,  there'll  be  an 
end  of  my  soldiering  inclinations  in  no  time.  Look 
in  my  face.     You  see  me,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  replied  the  sergeant  with  an  oath,  "  and  a 
finer  young  fellow,  or  one  better  qualified  to  serve 
his  king  and  country,  I  never  set  my  "  —  he  used  an 
adjective  in  this  place  —  "eyes  on." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Joe  ;  "  I  didn't  ask  you  for 
want  of  a  compliment,  but  thank  you  all  the  same. 
Do  I  look  like  a  sneaking  fellow  or  a  liar  ?  '* 

The  sergeant  rejoined,  with  many  choice  assevera- 
tions, that  he  didn't ;  and  that  if  his  (the  sergeant's) 
own  father  were  to  say  he  did,  he  would  run  the  old 
gentleman  through  the  body  cheerfully,  and  con- 
sider it  a  meritorious  action. 

Joe    expressed    his   obligations,    and   continued, 


BARNABY   RUDGE,  355 

"  You  can  trust  me  then,  and  credit  what  I  say.  I 
believe  I  shall  enlist  into  your  regiment  to-night. 
The  reason  I  don't  do  so  now  is  because  I  don't 
want,  until  to-night,  to  do  what  I  can't  recall. 
Where  shall  I  find  you  this  evening  ?  " 

His  friend  replied  with  some  unwillingness,  and 
after  much  ineffectual  entreaty  having  for  its  object 
the  immediate  settlement  of  the  business,  that  his 
quarters  would  be  at  the  Crooked  Billet,  in  Tower 
Street,  where  he  would  be  found  waking  until  mid- 
night, and  sleeping  until  breakfast-time  to-morrow. 

"  And  if  I  do  come  —  which  it's  a  million  to  one 
I  shall  — when  will  you  take  me  out  of  London  ?  " 
demanded  Joe. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  at  half  after  eight  o'clock," 
replied  the  sergeant.  "  You'll  go  abroad  —  a  coun- 
try where  it's  all  sunshine  and  plunder  —  the  finest 
climate  in  the  world." 

"  To  go  abroad,"  said  Joe,  shaking  hands  with 
him,  "  is  the  very  thing  I  want.  You  may  expect 
me." 

"You're  the  kind  of  lad  for  us,"  cried  the  ser- 
geant, holding  Joe's  hand  in  his,  in  the  excess  of  his 
admiration.  ''You're  the  boy  to  push  your  fortune. 
I  don't  say  it  because  I  bear  you  any  envy,  or  would 
take  away  from  the  credit  of  the  rise  you'll  make, 
but  if  I  had  been  bred  and  taught  like  you,  I'd  have 
been  a  colonel  by  this  time." 

"  Tush,  man  !  "  said  Joe ;  "  I'm  not  so  young  as 
that.  Needs  must  when  the  devil  drives  ;  and  the 
devil  that  drives  me  is  an  empty  pocket  and  an  un- 
happy home.     For  the  present,  good-by." 

"  For  king  and  country ! "  cried  the  sergeant, 
flourishing  his  cap. 


356  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

"  For  bread  and  meat !  "  cried  Joe,  snapping  liis 
fingers.     And  so  they  parted. 

He  had  very  little  money  in  his  pocket ;  so  little, 
indeed,  that  after  paying  for  his  breakfast  (which 
he  was  too  honest,  and  perhaps  too  proud,  to  score 
up  to  his  father's  charge)  he  had  but  a  penny  left. 
He  had  courage,  notwithstanding,  to  resist  all  the 
affectionate  importunities  of  the  sergeant,  who  way- 
laid him  at  the  door  with  many  2:)rotestations  of 
eternal  friendship,  and  did  in  particular  request  that 
he  would  do  him  the  favor  to  accept  of  only  one 
shilling  as  a  temporary  accommodation.  Rejecting 
his  offers  both  of  cash  and  credit,  Joe  walked  away 
with  stick  and  bundle  as  before,  bent  upon  getting 
through  the  day  as  he  best  could,  and  going  down 
to  the  locksmith's  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening ;  for 
it  should  go  hard,  he  had  resolved,  but  he  would 
have  a  parting  word  with  charming  Dolly  Varden. 

He  went  out  by  Islington,  and  so  on  to  Highgate, 
and  sat  on  many  stones  and  gates,  but  there  were  no 
voices  in  the  bells  to  bid  him  turn.  Since  the  time 
of  noble  Whittington,  fair  flower  of  merchants, 
bells  have  come  to  have  less  sympathy  with  human- 
kind. They  only  ring  for  money  and  on  state  occa- 
sions. Wanderers  have  increased  in  number  ;  ships 
leave  the  Thames  for  distant  regions,  carrying  from 
stem  to  stern  no  other  cargo  ;  the  bells  are  silent ; 
they  ring  out  no  entreaties  or  regrets  ;  they  are 
used  to  it,  and  have  grown  worldly. 

Joe  bought  a  roll,  and  reduced  his  purse  to  the 
condition  (with  a  difference)  of  that  celebrated 
purse  of  Fortunatus,  which,  whatever  were  its 
favored  owner's  necessities,  had  one  unvarying 
amount  in  it.     In  these  real   times,  when  all  the 


BARNABY   KDDGE.  357 

Fairies  are  dead  and  buried,  there  are  still  a  great 
many  purses  which  possess  that  quality.  The  sum- 
total  they  contain  is  expressed  in  arithmetic  by  a 
circle,  and  whether  it  be  added  tg,  or  multiplied  by 
its  own  amount,  the  result  of  the  problem  is  more 
easily  stated  than  any  known  in  figures. 

Evening  drew  on  at  last.  With  the  desolate  and 
solitary  feeling  of  one  who  had  no  home  or  shelter, 
and  was  alone  utterly  in  the  world  for  the  first  time, 
he  bent  his  steps  towards  the  locksmith's  house. 
He  had  delayed  till  now,  knowing  that  Mrs.  Varden 
sometimes  went  out  alone,  or  with  Miggs  for  her 
sole  attendant,  to  lectures  in  the  evening ;  and 
devoutly  hoping  that  this  might  be  one  of  her 
nights  of  moral  culture. 

He  had  walked  up  and  down  before  the  house,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  two  or  three  times, 
when,  as  he  returned  to  it  again,  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  a  fluttering  skirt  at  the  door.  It  was  Dolly's. 
To  whom  else  could  it  belong  ?  No  dress  but  hers 
had  such  a  flow  as  that.  He  plucked  up  his  spirits, 
and  followed  it  into  the  workshop  of  the  Golden 
Key. 

His  darkening  the  door  caused  her  to  look  round. 
Oh  that  face  !  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that,"  thought 
Joe,  "  I  should  never  have  walked  into  poor  Tom 
Cobb.  She's  twenty  times  handsomer  than  ever. 
She  might  marry  a  lord  !  " 

He  didn't  say  this.  He  only  thought  it  —  per- 
haps looked  it  also.  Dolly  was  glad  to  see  him, 
and  was  so  sorry  her  father  and  mother  were  away 
from  home.  Joe  begged  she  wouldn't  mention  it  on 
any  account. 

Dolly  hesitated  to  lead  the  way  into  the  parlor, 


358  BAENABY   EUDGE. 

for  there  it  was  nearly  dark ;  at  the  same  time,  she 
hesitated  to  stand  talking  in  the  workshop,  which 
was  yet  light  and  open  to  the  street.  They  had  got 
by  some  means,  too,  before  the  little  forge ;  and  Joe 
having  her  hand  in  his  (which  he  had  no  right  to 
have,  for  Dolly  only  gave  it  him  to  shake),  it  was  so 
like  standing  before  some  homely  altar  being  mar- 
ried, that  it  was  the  most  embarrassing  state  of 
things  in  the  world. 

"I  have  come,"  said  Joe,  "to  say  good-by  —  to 
say  good-by  for  I  don't  know  how  many  years ;  per- 
haps forever.     I  am  going  abroad." 

Now  this  was  exactly  what  he  should  not  have 
said.  Here  he  was,  talking  like  a  gentleman  at 
large  who  was  free  to  come  and  go  and  roam  about 
the  world  at  his  pleasure,  when  that  gallant  coach- 
maker  had  vowed,  but  the  night  before,  that  Miss 
Varden  held  him  bound  in  adamantine  chains ;  and 
had  positively  stated  in  so  many  words  that  she  was 
killing  him  by  inches,  and  that  in  a  fortnight  more, 
or  thereabouts,  he  expected  to  make  a  decent  end, 
and  leave  the  business  to  his  mother. 

Dolly  released  her  hand  and  said  "  Indeed !"  She 
remarked  in  the  same  breath  that  it  was  a  fine  night, 
and,  in  short,  betrayed  no  more  emotion  than  the 
forge  itself. 

"I  couldn't  go,"  said  Joe,  "without  coming  to  see 
you.     I  hadn't  the  heart  to." 

Dolly  was  more  sorry  than  she  could  tell,  that  he 
sliould  have  taken  so  much  trouble.  It  was  such  a 
long  way,  and  he  must  have  such  a  deal  to  do.  And 
liow  was  Mr.  Willet  —  that  dear  old  gentleman  — 

"  Is  this  all  you  say  ?  "  cried  Joe. 

All !     Good  gracious,  what  did  the  man  expect  ? 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  359 

She  was  obliged  to  take  her  apron  in  her  hand,  and 
run  her  eyes  along  the  hem  from  corner  to  corner, 
to  keep  herself  from  laughing  in  his  face ;  —  not 
because  his  gaze  confused  her  —  not  at  all. 

Joe  had  small  experience  in  love  affairs,  and  had 
no  notion  how  different  young  ladies  are  at  different 
times  !  he  had  expected  to  take  Dolly  up  again  at 
the  very  point  where  he  had  left  her  after  that  deli- 
cious evening  ride,  and  was  no  more  prepared  for 
such  an  alteration  than  to  see  the  sun  and  moon 
change  places.  He  had  buoyed  himself  up  all  day 
with  an  indistinct  idea  that  she  would  certainly  say 
"Don't  go,"  or  "Don't  leave  us,"  or  "Why  do  you 
go  ?  "  or  "  Why  do  you  leave  us  ?  "  or  would  give 
him  some  little  encouragement  of  that  sort ;  he  had 
even  entertained  the  possibility  of  her  bursting 
into  tears,  of  her  throwing  herself  into  his  arms, 
of  her  falling  down  in  a  fainting  fit  without 
previous  word  or  sign;  but  any  approach  to  such 
a  line  of  conduct  as  this  had  been  so  far  from  his 
thoughts,  that  he  could  only  look  at  her  in  silent 
wonder. 

Dolly  in  the  mean  while  turned  to  the  corners  of 
her  apron,  and  measured  the  sides,  and  smoothed 
out  the  wrinkles,  and  was  as  silent  as  he.  At  last, 
after  a  long  pause,  Joe  said  good-by.  "  Good-by," 
said  Dolly,  with  as  pleasant  a  smile  as  if  he  were 
going  into  the  next  street,  and  were  coming  back  to 
supper ;  "  good-by." 

"Come,"  said  Joe,  putting  out  both  his  hands, 
"Dolly,  dear  Dolly,  don't  let  us  part  like  this.  I 
love  you  dearly,  with  all  my  heart  and  soul ;  with 
as  much  truth  and  earnestness  as  ever  man  loved 
woman  in  this  world,  I  do  believe.     I  am  a  poor 


360  BAEKABY  RUDGE. 

fellow,  as  you  know  —  poorer  now  tlian  ever,  for  I 
have  fled  from  home,  not  being  able  to  bear  it  any 
longer,  and  must  fight  my  own  way  without  help. 
You  are  beautiful,  admired,  are  loved  by  everybody, 
are  well  off  and  happy ;  and  may  you  ever  be  so ! 
Heaven  forbid  I  should  ever  make  you  otherwise; 
but  give  me  a  word  of  comfort.  Say  something 
kind  to  me.  I  have  no  right  to  expect  it  of  you,  I 
know,  but  I  ask  it  because  I  love  you,  and  shall 
treasure  the  slightest  word  from  you  all  through 
my  life.  Dolly,  dearest,  have  you  nothing  to  say  to 
me?" 

No.  Nothing.  Dolly  was  a  coquette  by  na- 
ture, and  a  spoilt  child.  She  had  no  notion  of 
being  carried  by  storm  in  this  way.  The  coach- 
maker  would  have  been  dissolved  in  tears,  and 
would  have  knelt  down,  and  called  himself  names, 
and  clasped  his  hands,  and  beat  his  breast,  and 
tugged  wildly  at  his  cravat,  and  done  all  kinds  of 
poetry.  Joe  had  no  business  to  be  going  abroad. 
He  had  no  right  to  be  able  to  do  it.  If  he  was  in 
adamantine  chains,  he  couldn't, 

"1  have  said  good-by,"  said  Dolly,  'Hwice.  Take 
your  arm  away  directly,  Mr.  Joseph,  or  I'll  call 
Miggs." 

"  I'll  not  reproach  you,"  answered  Joe  ;  '^  it's  my 
fault,  no  doubt.  I  have  thought  sometimes  that  you 
didn't  quite  despise  me,  but  I  Avas  a  fool  to  think 
so.  Every  one  must  who  has  seen  the  life  I  have 
led  —  you  most  of  all.     God  bless  you  !  " 

He  was  gone,  actually  gone.  Dolly  waited  a 
little  while,  thinking  he  would  return,  peeped  out 
at  the  door,  looked  up  the  street  and  down  as  well 
as  the  increasing  darkness  would  allow,  came  in 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  361 

again,  waited  a  little  longer,  went  upstairs  hum- 
ming a  tune,  bolted  herself  in,  laid  her  head  down 
on  her  bed,  and  cried  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
■"And  yet  such  natures  are  made  up  of  so  many  con- 
tradictions, that  if  Joe  Willet  had  come  back  that 
night,  next  day,  next  week,  next  month,  the  odds 
are  a  hundred  to  one  she  would  have  treated  him  in 
the  very  same  manner,  and  have  wept  for  it  after- 
wards with  the  very  same  distress. 

She  had  no  sooner  left  the  workshop  than  there 
cautiously  peered  out,  from  behind  the  chimney  of 
the  forge,  a  face  which  had  already  emerged  from 
the  same  concealment  twice  or  thrice  unseen,  and 
which,  after  satisfying  itself  that  it  was  now  alone, 
was  followed  by  a  leg,  a  shoulder,  and  so  on  by 
degrees,  until  the  form  of  Mr.  Tappertit  stood  con- 
fessed, with  a  brown-paper  cap  stuck  negligently  on 
one  side  of  its  head,  and  its  arms  very  much 
a-kimbo. 

"  Have  my  ears  deceived  me,"  said  the  'prentice, 
"  or  do  I  dream  ?  Am  I  to  thank  thee,  Fortun',  or 
to  cuss  thee  —  which  ?  " 

He  gravely  descended  from  his  elevation,  took 
down  his  piece  of  looking-glass,  planted  it  against 
the  wall  upon  the  usual  bench,  twisted  his  head 
round,  and  looked  closely  at  his  legs. 

"If  they're  a  dream,"  said  Sim,  "let  sculptures 
have  such  wisions,  and  chisel  'em  out  when  they 
wake.  This  is  reality.  Sleep  has  no  such  limbs  as 
them.  Tremble,  Willet,  and  despair.  She's  mine ! 
She's  mine  !  " 

With  these  triumphant  expressions,  he  seized  a 
hammer  and  dealt  a  heavy  blow  at  a  vice,  which  in 
his  mind's  eye  represented  the  sconce  or  head  of 


362  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

Josepli  Willet.  That  done,  he  bvirst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter  which  startled  Miss  Miggs  even  in  her  dis- 
tant kitchen,  and  dipping  his  head  into  a  bowl  of 
water,  had  recourse  to  a  jack-towel  inside  the  closet 
door,  which  served  the  double  purpose  of  smother- 
ing his  feelings  and  drying  his  face. 

Joe,  disconsolate  and  down-hearted,  but  full  of 
courage  too,  on  leaving  the  locksmith's  house,  made 
the  best  of  his  way  to  the  Crooked  Billet,  and  there 
inquired  for  his  friend  the  sergeant,  who,  expecting 
no  man  less,  received  him  with  open  arms.  In  the 
course  of  five  minutes  after  his  arrival  at  that  house 
of  entertainment,  he  was  enrolled  among  the  gallant 
defenders  of  his  native  land ;  and  within  half  an 
hour  was  regaled  with  a  steaming  supper  of  boiled 
tripe  and  onions,  prepared,  as  his  friend  assured 
him  more  than  once,  at  the  express  command  of 
his  most  Sacred  Majesty  the  King.  To  this  meal, 
which  tasted  very  savory  after  his  long  fasting,  he 
did  ample  justice ;  and  when  he  had  followed  it  up, 
or  down,  with  a  variety  of  loyal  and  patriotic  toasts, 
he  was  conducted  to  a  straw  mattress  in  a  loft  over 
the  stable,  and  k)cked  in  there  fov  the  night. 

The  next  morning,  he  found  that  the  obliging 
care  of  his  martial  friend  had  decorated  his  hat 
with  sundry  party-colored  streamers,  which  made  a 
very  lively  appearance  ;  and  in  company  with  tluit 
officer,  and  three  other  military  gentlemen  newly 
enrolled,  who  were  under  a  cloud  so  dense  that  it 
only  left  three  shoes,  a  boot,  and  a  coat  and  a  half 
visible  among  them,  repaired  to  the  river-side. 
Here  they  were  joined  by  a  corporal  and  four  more 
heroes,  of  whom  two  were  drunk  and  daring,  and 
two  sober  and  penitent,  but  each  of  whom,  like  Joe, 


BAENABY   EUDGE.  363 

had  his  dusty  stick  and  bundle.  The  party  em- 
barked in  a  passage-boat  bound  for  Gravesend, 
whence  they  were  to  proceed  on  foot  to  Chatham  ; 
the  wind  was  in  their  favor,  and  they  soon  left  Lon- 
don behind  them,  a  mere  dark  mist  —  a  giant  phan- 
tom in  the  air. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Misfortunes,  saith  the  adage,  never  come  singly. 
There  is  little  doubt  that  troubles  are  exceedingly 
gregarious  in  their  nature,  and  flying  in  flocks,  are 
apt  to  perch  capriciously  ;  croAvding  on  the  heads  of 
some  poor  wights  until  there  is  not  an  inch  of  room 
left  ou  their  unlucky  crowns,  and  taking  no  more 
notice  of  others,  who  offer  as  good  resting-places  for 
the  soles  of  their  feet,  than  if  they  had  no  existence. 
It  may  have  happened  that  a  flight  of  troubles 
brooding  over  London,  and  looking  out  for  Joseph 
Willet,  whom  they  couldn't  find,  darted  down  hap- 
hazard on  the  first  young  man  that  caught  their 
fancy,  and  settled  on  him  instead.  However  this 
may  be,  certain  it  is  that  on  the  very  day  of  Joe's 
departure  they  swarmed  about  the  ears  of  Edward 
Chester,  and  did  so  buzz  and  flap  their  wings,  and 
persecute  him,  that  he  was  most  profoundly 
wretched. 

It  was  evening,  and  just  eight  o'clock,  when  he 
and  his  father,  having  wine  and  dessert  set  before 
them,  were  left  to  themselves  for  the  first  time  that 
day.  They  had  dined  together,  but  a  third  person 
had  been  present  during  the  meal,  and  until  they 
met  at  table  they  had  not  seen  each  other  since  the 
previous  night. 

364 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  365 

Edward  was  reserved  and  silent,  Mr.  Chester  was 
more  than  usually  gay  ;  but  not  caring,  as  it  seemed, 
to  open  a  conversation  with  one  whose  humor  was 
so  different,  he  vented  the  lightness  of  his  spirit  in. 
smiles  and  sparkling  looks,  and  made  no  effort  to 
awaken  his  attention.  So  they  remained  for  some 
time  :  the  father  lying  on  a  sofa  with  his  accustomed 
air  of  graceful  negligence  ;  the  son  seated  opposite 
to  him  with  downcast  eyes,  busied,  it  was  plain, 
with  painful  and  uneasy  thoughts. 

"  My  dear  Edward,"  said  Mr.  Chester  at  length, 
with  a  most  engaging  laugh,  "  do  not  extend  your 
drowsy  influence  to  the  decanter.  Suffer  that  to  cir- 
culate, let  your  spirits  be  never  so  stagnant." 

Edward  begged  his  pardon,  passed  it,  and  relapsed 
into  his  former  state. 

"  You  do  wrong  not  to  fill  your  glass,"  said  Mr. 
Chester,  holding  up  his  own  before  the  light. 
"  Wine  in  moderation  —  not  in  excess,  for  that 
makes  men  ugly  —  has  a  thousand  pleasant  influ- 
ences. It  brightens  the  eye,  improves  the  voice, 
imparts  a  new  vivacity  to  one's  thoughts  and  con- 
versation :  you  should  try  it,  Ned." 

"  Ah,  father  !  "  cried  his  son,  "  if  —  " 

"  My  good  fellow,"  interposed  the  parent  hastily, 
as  he  set  down  his  glass,  and  raised  his  eyebrows 
with  a  startled  and  horrified  expression,  "for 
Heaven's  sake  don't  call  me  by  that  obsolete  and 
ancient  name.  Have  some  regard  for  delicacy.  Am 
I  gray,  or  wrinkled,  do  I  go  on  crutches,  have  I  lost 
my  teeth,  that  you  adopt  such  a  mode  of  address  ? 
Good  God,  how  very  coarse  ! " 

"  I  was  about  to  speak  to  you  from  my  heart, 
sir,"   returned  Edward,  "in   the   confidence  which 


366  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

should  subsist  between  us ;    and  you  check  me  in 
the  outset." 

''Now  do,  Ned,  do  not,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  raising 
his  delicate  hand  imploringly,  "talk  in  that  mon- 
strous manner.  About  to  speak  from  your  heart ! 
Don't  you  know  that  the  heart  is  an  ingenious  part 
of  our  formation  —  the  centre  of  the  blood-vessels 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing  —  which  has  no  more  to 
do  with  what  you  say  or  think  than  your  knees 
have  ?  How  can  you  be  so  very  vulgar  and  absurd  ? 
These  anatomical  allusions  should  be  left  to  gentle- 
men of  the  medical  profession.  They  are  really  not 
agreeable  in  society.     You  quite  surprise  me,  Ned." 

"  Well !  there  are  no  such  things  to  wound,  or 
heal,  or  have  regard  for.  I  know  your  creed,  sir, 
and  will  say  no  more,"  returned  his  son. 

"There  again,"  said  Mr.  Chester,  sipping  his 
wine,  ''you  are  wrong.  I  distinctly  say  there  are 
such  things.  We  know  there  are.  The  hearts  of 
animals  —  of  bullocks,  sheep,  and  so  forth  —  are 
cooked  and  devoured,  as  I  am  told,  by  the  lower 
classes,  with  a  vast  deal  of  relish.  Men  are  some- 
times stabbed  to  the  heart,  shot  to  the  heart ;  but 
as  to  speaking  from  the  heart,  or  to  the  heart,  or 
being  warm-hearted,  or  cold-hearted,  or  broken- 
hearted, or  being  all  heart,  or  having  no  heart  — 
pah !  these  things  are  nonsense,  Ned." 

"No  doubt,  sir,"  returned  his  son,  seeing  that  he 
paused  for  him  to  speak.     "  No  doubt." 

"  There's  Haredale's  niece,  your  late  flame/'  said 
Mr.  Chester,  as  a  careless  illustration  of  his  mean- 
ing. "No  doubt  in  your  mind  she  was  all  heart 
once.  Now  she  has  none  at  all.  Yet  she  is  the 
same  person,  Ned,  exactly." 


BAENABY   RUDGE.  367 

"  She  is  a  changed  person,  sir,"  cried  Edward, 
reddening ;  *'  and  changed  by  vile  means,  I  be- 
lieve." 

"You  have  had  a  cool  dismissal,  have  you?" 
said  his  father.  "■  Poor  Ned !  I  told  you  last  night 
what  would  happen,  —  May  I  ask  you  for  the  nut- 
crackers ?  " 

"  She  has  been  tampered  with,  and  most  treacher- 
ously deceived,"  cried  Edward,  rising  from  his  seat. 
*'  I  never  will  believe  that  the  knowledge  of  my 
real  position,  given  her  by  myself,  has  worked  this 
change.  I  know  she  is  beset  and  tortured.  But 
though  our  contract  is  at  an  end,  and  broken  past 
all  redemption ;  though  I  charge  upon  her  want  of 
firmness  and  want  of  truth,  both  to  herself  and  me ; 
I  do  not  now,  and  never  will  believe  that  any  sordid 
motive,  or  her  own  unbiassed  will,  has  led  her  to 
this  course  —  never  ! " 

"You  make  me  blush,"  returned  his  father  gayly, 
"  for  the  folly  of  your  nature,  in  which  —  but  we 
never  know  ourselves  —  I  devoutly  hope  there  is  no 
reflection  of  my  own.  With  regard  to  the  young 
lady  herself,  she  has  done  what  is  very  natural  and 
proper,  my  dear  fellow ;  what  you  yourself  proposed, 
as  I  learn  from  Haredale  ;  and  what  I  predicted  — 
with  no  great  exercise  of  sagacity  —  she  would  do. 
She  supposed  you  to  be  rich,  or  at  least  quite  rich 
enough ;  and  found  you  poor.  Marriage  is  a  civil 
contract ;  people  marry  to  better  their  worldly  con- 
dition and  improve  appearances  ;  it  is  an  affair  of 
house  and  furniture,  of  liveries,  servants,  equipage, 
and  so  forth.  The  lady  being  poor,  and  you  poor 
also,  there  is  an  end  of  the  matter.  You  cannot 
enter  upon  these  considerations,  and  have  no  manner 


368  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

of  business  with  tlie  ceremony.  I  drink  lier  health 
ill  this  glass,  and  respect  and  honor  her  for  her 
extreme  good  sense.  It  is  a  lesson  to  you.  Fill 
yours,  Ned." 

"  It  is  a  lesson,"  returned  his  son,  "  by  which  I 
hope  I  may  never  profit,  and  if  years  and  their  ex- 
perience impress  it  on  —  " 

"  Don't  say  on  the  heart,"  interposed  his  father. 

"  On  men  whom  the  world  and  its  hypocrisy  have 
spoiled,"  said  Edward  warml}',  "Heaven  keep  me 
from  its  knowledge." 

"Come,  sir,"  returned  his  father,  raising  himself 
a  little  on  the  sofa,  and  looking  straight  towards 
him ;  "  we  have  had  enough  of  this.  Kemember,  if 
you  please,  your  interest,  your  duty,  your  moral 
obligations,  your  filial  affections,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  which  it  is  so  very  delightful  and  charming 
to  reflect  upon  ;  or  you  will  repent  it." 

"  I  shall  never  repent  the  preservation  of  my  self- 
respect,  sir,"  said  Edward.  "  Forgive  me  if  I  say 
that  I  will  not  sacrifice  it  at  your  bidding,  and  that 
I  will  not  pursue  the  track  which  you  would  have 
me  take,  and  to  which  the  secret  share  you  have 
had  in  this  late  separation  tends." 

His  father  rose  a  little  higher  still,  and  looking 
at  him  as  though  curious  to  know  if  he  were  quite 
resolved  and  earnest,  dropped  gently  down  again, 
and  said  in  the  calmest  voice  —  eating  his  nuts 
meanwhile,  — 

"Edward,  my  father  had  a  son  who,  being  a  fool 
like  you,  and,  like  you,  entertaining  low  and  dis- 
obedient sentiments,  he  disinherited  and  cursed  one 
morning  after  breakfast.  The  circumstance  occurs 
to  me  with  a  singular  clearness  of  recollection  this 


BAKNABY  RTJDGE.  369 

evening.  I  remember  eating  muffins  at  the  time, 
with  marmalade.  He  led  a  miserable  life  (the  son 
I  mean),  and  died  early  :  it  was  a  happy  release  on 
all  accounts  ;  he  degraded  the  family  very  much. 
It  is  a  sad  circumstance,  Edward,  when  a  father 
linds  it  necessary  to  resort  to  such  strong  meas- 
ures." 

*'  It  is,"  replied  Edward,  "  and  it  is  sad  when  a 
son,  proffering  him  his  love  and  duty  in  their  best 
and  truest  sense,  finds  himself  repelled  at  every 
turn,  and  forced  to  disobey.  Dear  father,"  he 
added  more  earnestly,  though  in  a  gentler  tone, 
"  I  have  reflected  many  times  on  what  occurred 
between  us  when  we  first  discussed  this  subject. 
Let  there  be  a  confidence  between  us  ;  not  in  terms, 
but  truth.     Hear  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  As  I  anticipate  what  it  is,  and  cannot  fail  to  do 
so,  Edward,"  returned  his  father  coldly,  "  I  decline. 
I  couldn't  possibly.  I  am  sure  it  would  put  me 
out  of  temper,  which  is  a  state  of  mind  I  can't  en- 
dure. If  you  intend  to  mar  my  plans  for  your 
establishment  in  life,  and  the  preservation  of  that 
gentility  and  becoming  pride  which  our  family  have 
so  long  sustained  —  if,  in  short,  you  are  resolved  to 
take  your  own  course,  you  must  take  it,  and  my 
curse  with  it.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  there's  really 
no  alternative." 

"The  curse  may  pass  your  lips,"  said  Edward, 
"  but  it  will  be  but  empty  breath.  I  do  not  believe 
that  any  man  on  earth  has  greater  power  to  call  one 
down  upon  his  fellow — least  of  all  upon  his  own 
child  —  than  he  has  to  make  one  drop  of  rain  or 
flake  of  snow  fall  from  the  clouds  above  us  at  his 
impious  bidding.  Beware,  sir,  what  you  do." 
VOL.  I. -24. 


370  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"You  are  so  very  irreligious,  so  exceedingly  un- 
dutiful,  so  horribly  profane,"  rejoined  his  father, 
turning  his  face  lazily  towards  him,  and  cracking 
another  nut,  "  that  I  positively  must  interrupt  you 
here.  It  is  quite  impossible  we  can  continue  to  go 
on  upon  such  terms  as  these.  If  you  will  do  me 
the  favor  to  ring  the  bell,  the  servant  will  show  ^''ou 
to  the  door.  Return  to  this  roof  no  more,  I  beg 
you.  Go,  sir,  since  you  have  no  moral  sense  remain- 
ing ;  and  go  to  the  Devil,  at  my  express  desire. 
Good-day." 

Edward  left  the  room  without  another  word  or 
look,  and  turned  his  back  upon  the  house  forever. 

The  father's  face  was  slightly  flushed  and  heated, 
but  his  manner  was  quite  unchanged,  as  he  rang 
the  bell  again,  and  addressed  his  servant  on  his 
entrance. 

"Peak  —  if  that  gentleman  who  has  just  gone 
cut  —  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  Mr.  Edward  ?  " 

"  Were  there  more  than  one,  dolt,  that  you  ask 
the  question?  —  If  that  gentleman  should  send  here 
for  his  wardrobe,  let  him  have  it,  do  you  hear  ?  If 
he  should  call  himself  at  any  time,  I'm  not  at  home. 
You'll  tell  him  so,  and  shut  the  door." 

So,  it  soon  got  whispered  about  that  Mr.  Chester 
was  very  unfortunate  in  his  son,  who  had  occasioned 
him  great  grief  and  sorrow.  And  the  good  people 
who  heard  this,  and  told  it  again,  marvelled  the 
more  at  his  equanimity  and  even  temper,  and  said 
what  an  amiable  nature  that  man  must  have,  who, 
having  undergone;  so  much,  could  be  so  placid  and 
so  calm.     And  when  Edward's  name  was  spoken. 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  371 

Society  shook  its  head  and  laid  its  finger  on  its  lip, 
and  sighed,  and  looked  very  grave ;  and  those  who 
had  sons  about  his  age  waxed  wrathful  and  indignant, 
and  hoped,  for  Virtue's  sake,  that  he  was  dead. 
And  the  world  went  on  turning  round,  as  usxial,  for 
five  years,  concerning  which  this  Narrative  is  silent. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIII. 

Owe  wintry  evening,  early  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty,  a  keen, 
north  wind  arose  as  it  grew  dark,  and  night  came  on 
with  black  and  dismal  looks.  A  bitter  storm  of 
sleet,  sharp,  dense,  and  icy-cold,  swept  the  wet 
streets,  and  rattled  on  the  trembling  windows.  Sign- 
boards, shaken  past  endurance  in  their  creaking 
frames,  fell  crashing  on  the  pavement ;  old  tottering 
chimneys  reeled  and  staggered  in  the  blast ;  and 
many  a  steeple  rocked  again  that  night,  as  though 
the  earth  were  troubled. 

It  was  not  a  time  for  those  who  could  by  any 
means  get  light  and  warmth  to  brave  the  fury  of  the 
weather.  In  coffee-houses  of  the  better  sort  guests 
crowded  round  the  fire,  forgot  to  be  political,  and 
told  each  other  with  a  secret  gladness  that  the  blast 
grew  fiercer  every  minute.  Each  humble  tavern  by 
the  water-side  had  its  group  of  uncouth  figures  round 
the  hearth ;  who  talked  of  vessels  foundering  at 
sea,  and  all  hands  lost,  related  many  a  dismal  tale 
of  shipwreck  and  drowned  men,  and  hoped  that 
some  they  knew  were  safe,  and  shook  their  heads 
in  doubt.  In  private  dwellings  children  clustered 
near  the  blaze  ;  listening  with  timid  pleasure  to 
tales  of  ghosts  and  goblins  and  tall  figures  clad  in 
372 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  373 

white  standing  by  bedsides,  and  people  who  had 
gone  to  sleep  in  old  churches,  and  being  overlooked, 
had  found  themselves  alone  there  at  the  dead  hour 
of  the  night :  until  they  shuddered  at  the  thought 
of  the  dark  rooms  upstairs,  yet  loved  to  hear  the 
wind  moan  too,  and  hoped  it  would  continue  bravely. 
From  time  to  time  these  happy  indoor  people 
stopped  to  listen,  or  one  held  up  his  finger  and  cried 
"  Hark ! "  and  then,  above  the  rumbling  in  the 
chimney  and  the  fast  pattering  on  the  glass,  was 
heard  a  wailing,  rushing  sound,  Avhich  shook  the 
walls  as  though  a  giant's  hand  were  on  them  ;  then 
a  hoarse  roar  as  if  the  sea  had  risen;  then  such 
a  whirl  and  tumult  that  the  air  seemed  mad ;  and 
then,  with  a  lengthened'  howl,  the  waves  of  wind 
swept  on,  and  left  a  moment's  interval  of  rest. 

Cheerily,  though  there  were  none  abroad  to  see 
it,  shone  the  Maypole  light  that  evening.  Blessings 
on  the  red  —  deep  ruby,  glowing  red  —  old  curtain 
of  the  window ;  blending  into  one  rich  stream  of 
brightness  fire  and  candle,  meat,  drink,  and  company, 
and  gleaming  like  a  jovial  eye  upon  the  bleak  waste 
out  of  doors  !  Within,  what  carpet  like  its  crunch- 
ing sand,  what  music  merry  as  its  crackling  logs, 
what  perfume  like  its  kitchen's  dainty  breath,  what 
weather  genial  as  its  hearty  warmth  ?  Blessings 
on  the  old  house,  how  sturdily  it  stood !  How  did 
the  vexed  wind  chafe  and  roar  about  its  stalwart 
roof ;  how  did  it  pant  and  strive  with  its  wide  chim- 
neys, which  still  poured  forth,  from  their  hospitable 
throats,  great  clouds  of  smoke,  and  puffed  defiance 
in  its  face  ;  how,  above  all,  did  it  drive  and  rattle  at 
the  casement,  emulous  to  extinguish  that  cheerful 
glow,  which  would  not  be  put  down,  and  seemed  the 
brighter  for  the  conflict ! 


374  BAKNABY   BUDGE. 

The  profusion  too,  the  rich  and  lavish  bounty,  of 
that  goodly  tavern !  It  was  not  enough  that  one 
fire  roared  and  sparkled  on  its  spacious  hearth ;  in 
the  tiles  which  jDaved  and  compassed  it,  five 
hundred  flickering  fires  burnt  brightly  also.  It  was 
not  enough  that  one  red  curtain  shut  the  wild 
night  out,  and  shed  its  cheerful  influence  on  the 
room.  In  every  saucepan  lid,  and  candlestick,  and 
vessel  of  copper,  brass,  or  tin  that  hung  upon  the 
walls,  were  countless  ruddy  hangings,  flashing  and 
gleaming  with  every  motion  of  the  blaze,  and  offer- 
ing, let  the  eye  wander  where  it  might,  interminable 
vistas  of  the  same  rich  color.  The  old  oak  wainscot- 
ing, the  beams,  the  chairs,  the  seats,  reflected  it  in 
a  deep  dull  glimmer.  There  were  fires  and  red 
curtains  in  the  very  eyes  of  the  drinkers,  in  their 
buttons,  in  their  liquor,  in  the  pipes  they  smoked. 

Mr.  Willet  sat  in  what  had  been  his  accustomed 
place  five  years  before,  with  his  eyes  on  the  eternal 
boiler;  and  had  sat  there  since  the  clock  struck 
eight,  giving  no  other  signs  of  life  than  breathing 
with  a  loud  and  constant  snore  (though  he  was  wide 
awake),  and  from  time  to  time  putting  his  glass  to 
his  lips,  or  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and 
filling  it  anew.  It  was  now  half-past  ten.  Mr. 
Cobb  and  long  Phil  Parkes  were  his  companions,  as 
of  old,  and  for  two  mortal  hours  and  a  half  none  of 
the  company  had  pronounced  one  word. 

Whether  people,  by  dint  of  sitting  together  in  the 
same  place  and  the  same  relative  positions,  and 
doing  exactly  the  same  things  for  a  great  many 
years,  acquire  a  sixth  sense,  or  some  unknown 
power  of  influencing  each  other  which  serves  them 
in  its  stead,  is  a  question  for  philosophy  to  settle. 


BAKNABY   BUDGE.  375 

But  certain  it.  is  that  okl  John  Willet,  Mr.  Parkes, 
and  Mr.  Cobb  were  one  and  all  firmly  of  opinion 
that  they  were  very  jolly  companions  —  rather 
choice  spirits  than  otherwise ;  that  they  looked  at 
each  other  every  now  and  then  as  if  there  were  a 
perpetual  interchange  of  ideas  going  on  among 
them ;  that  no  man  considered  himself  or  his  neigh- 
bor by  any  means  silent ;  and  that  each  of  them 
nodded  occasionally  when  he  caught  the  eye  of 
another,  as  if  he  would  say,  "  You  have  expressed 
yourself  extremely  well,  sir,  in  relation  to  that 
sentiment,  and  I  quite  agree  with  you." 

The  room  was  so  very  warm,  the  tobacco  so  very 
good,  and  the  fire  so  very  soothing,  that  Mr.  Willet 
by  degrees  began  to  doze ;  but  as  he  had  perfectly 
acquired,  by  dint  of  long  habit,  the  art  of  smoking 
in  his  sleep,  and  as  his  breathing  was  pretty  much 
the  same,  awake  or  asleep,  saving  that  in  the  latter 
case  he  sometimes  experienced  a  slight  difficulty  in 
respiration  (such  as  a  carpenter  meets  with  when  he 
is  planing  and  comes  to  a  knot),  neither  of  his 
companions  was  aware  of  the  circumstance  until  he 
met  with  one  of  these  impediments,  and  was  obliged 
to  try  again. 

''Johnny's  dropped  off,"  said  Mr.  Parkes  in  a 
whisper. 

"■  Fast  as  a  top,"  said  Mr.  Cobb. 

Neither  of  them  said  any  more  until  Mr.  Willet 
came  to  another  knot  —  one  of  surpassing  obduracy 
—  which  bade  fair  to  throw  him  into  convulsions, 
but  which  he  got  over  at  last  without  waking,  by  an 
effort  quite  superhuman. 

''He  sleeps  uncommon  hard,"  said  Mr.  Cobb. 

Mr.  ParkeSj  who  was  possibly  a  hard  sleeper  him- 


376  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

self,  replied  with  some  disdain,  "  Not  a  bit  on  it ;  " 
and  directed  his  eyes  towards  a  handbill  pasted  over 
the  chimney-piece,  which  was  decorated  at  the  top 
with  a  woodcut  representing  a  youth  of  tender  years 
running  away  very  fast,  with  a  bundle  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  end  of  a  stick,  and  —  to  carry  out 
the  idea  —  a  finger-post  and  a  milestone  beside  him. 
Mr.  Cobb  likewise  turned  his  eyes  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, and  surveyed  the  placard  as  if  that  were  the 
first  time  he  had  ever  beheld  it.  Now,  this  was  a 
document  which  Mr.  Willet  had  himself  indited  on 
the  disappearance  of  his  son  Joseph,  acquainting  the 
nobility  and  gentry  and  the  public  in  general  with 
the  circumstances  of  his  having  left  his  home  ;  de- 
scribing his  dress  and  appearance ;  and  offering  a 
reward  of  five  pounds  to  any  person  or  persons  who 
would  pack  him  up  and  return  him  safely  to  the 
Maypole  at  Chigwell,  or  lodge  him  in  any  of  his 
Majesty's  jails  until  such  time  as  his  father  should 
come  and  claim  him.  In  this  advertisement  Mr. 
Willet  had  obstinately  persisted,  despite  the  advice 
and  entreaties  of  his  friends,  in  describing  his  son 
as  a  "  young  boy  ;  "  and  furthermore  as  being  from 
eighteen  inches  to  a  couple  of  feet  shorter  than  he 
really  was ;  two  circumstances  which  perhaps  ac- 
counted, in  some  degree,  for  its  never  having  been 
productive  of  any  other  effect  than  the  transmission 
to  Chigwell  at  various  times,  and  at  a  vast  expense, 
of  some  five  and  forty  runaways  varying  from  six 
years  old  to  twelve, 

Mr.  Cobb  and  Mr.  Parkes  looked  mysteriously  at 
this  composition,  at  each  other,  and  at  old  John. 
From  the  time  he  had  pasted  it  up  with  his  own 
hands,  Mr.  Willet  had  never  by  word  or  sign  alluded 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  377 

to  the  subject,  or  encouraged  any  one  else  to  do  so. 
Nobody  had  the  least  notion  what  his  thoughts  or 
opinions  were  connected  with  it ;  whether  he  re- 
membered it  or  forgot  it ;  whether  he  had  any  idea 
that  such  an  event  had  ever  taken  place.  There- 
fore, even  while  he  slept,  no  one  ventured  to  refer 
to  it  in  his  presence  ;  and  for  such  sufficient  reasons, 
these  his  chosen  friends  were  silent  now. 

Mr.  Willet  had  got  by  this  time  into  such  a  com- 
plication of  knots,  that  it  was  perfectly  clear  he 
must  wake  or  die.  He  chose  the  former  alterna- 
tive, and  opened  his  eyes. 

"  If  he  don't  come  in  five  minutes,"  said  John,  "  I 
shall  have  supper  without  him." 

The  antecedent  of  this  pronoun  had  been  men- 
tioned for  the  last  time  at  eight  o'clock.  Messrs. 
Parkes  and  Cobb,  being  used  to  this  style  of  con- 
versation, replied  without  difficulty  that  to  be  sure 
Solomon  was  very  late,  and  they  wondered  what  had 
happened  to  detain  him. 

"He  ain't  blown  away,  I  suppose,"  said  Parkes. 
"It's  enough  to  carry  a  man  of  his  figure  off  his 
legs,  and  easy  too.  Do  you  hear  it  ?  It  blows 
great  guns,  indeed.  There'll  be  many  a  crash  in 
the  Forest  to-night,  I  reckon,  and  many  a  broken 
branch  upon  the  ground  to-morrrow." 

"  It  won't  break  anything  in  the  Maypole,  I  take 
it,  sir,"  returned  old  John.  "  Let  it  try.  I  give  it 
leave.     What's  that  ?  " 

"  The  wind,"  cried  Parkes.  "  It's  howling  like  a 
Christian,  and  has  been  all  night  long." 

"Did  you  ever,  sir,"  asked  John,  after  a  minute's 
contemplation,  "  hear  the  wind  say  '  Maypole  '  ?  " 

"  Why,  what  man  ever  did  ?  "  said  Parkes. 


378  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

"Nor  'ahoy,'  perhaps  ?  "  added  John. 

"No.     Nor  that  neither." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Willet,  perfectly  un- 
moved; "then  if  that  was  the  wind  just  now,  and 
you'll  wait  a  little  time  without  S2)eaking,  you'll 
hear  it  say  both  words  very  plain." 

Mr.  Willet  was  right.  After  listening  for  a  few 
moments,  they  could  clearly  hear,  above  the  roar 
and  tumult  out  of  doors,  this  shout  repeated ;  and 
that  with  a  shrillness  and  energy  which  denoted 
that  it  came  from  some  person  in  great  distress  or 
terror.  They  looked  at  each  other,  turned  pale,  and 
held  their  breath.     No  man  stirred. 

It  was  in  this  emergency  that  Mr.  Willet  dis- 
played something  of  that  strength  of  mind  and 
plenitude  of  mental  resource  which  rendered  him 
the  admiration  of  all  his  friends  and  neighbors. 
After  looking  at  INIessrs.  Paj'kes  and  Cobb  for  some 
time  in  silence,  he  clapped  his  two  hands  to  his 
cheeks,  and  sent  forth  a  roar  which  made  the  glasses 
dance  and  rafters  ring  —  a  long-sustained,  discord- 
ant bellow,  that  rolled  onward  with  the  wind,  and 
startling  every  echo,  made  the  night  a  hundred 
times  more  boisterous  —  a  deep,  loud,  dismal  bray, 
that  sounded  like  a  human  gong.  Then,  with  every 
vein  in  his  head  and  face  swollen  with  the  great 
exertion,  and  his  countenance  suffused  with  a  lively 
purple,  he  drew  a  little  nearer  to  the  fire,  and  turn- 
ing his  back  upon  it,  said  with  dignity,  — 

"If  that's  any  comfort  to  anybody,  they're  wel- 
come to  it.  If  it  ain't,  I'm  sorry  for  'em.  If  either 
of  you  two  gentlemen  likes  to  go  out  and  see  what's 
the  matter,  you  can.     I'm  not  curious  myself." 

While  he  spoke  the  cry  drew  nearer  and  nearer, 


BAPtXABY   EUDGE.  379 

footsteps  passed  the  window,  the  latch  of  the  door 
was  raised,  it  opened,  was  violently  shut  again,  and 
Solomon  Daisy,  with  a  lighted  lantern  in  his  hand, 
and  the  rain  streaming  from  his  disordered  dress, 
dashed  into  the  room. 

A  more  complete  picture  of  terror  than  the  little 
man  presented,  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 
The  perspiration  stood  in  beads  upon  his  face,  his 
knees  knocked  together,  his  every  limb  trembled, 
the  power  of  articulation  was  quite  gone  ;  and  there 
he  stood,  panting  for  breath,  gazing  on  them  with 
such  livid  ashy  looks,  that  they  were  infected  with 
his  fear,  though  ignorant  of  its  occasion,  and,  reflect- 
ing his  dismayed  and  horror-stricken  visage,  stared 
back  again  Avithout  venturing  to  question  him;  until 
old  John  Willet,  in  a  fit  of  temporary  insanity,  made 
a  dive  at  his  cravat,  and  seizing  him  by  that  portion 
of  his  dress,  shook  him  to  and  fro  until  his  very 
teeth  appeared  to  rattle  in  his  head. 

"  Tell  us  what's  the  matter,  sir,"  said  John,  "  or 
I'll  kill  you.  Tell  us  what's  the  matter,  sir,  or  in 
another  second  I'll  have  your  head  under  the  biler. 
How  dare  you  look  like  that  ?  Is  anybody  a  fol- 
lowing of  you  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  Say  some- 
thing, or  I'll  be  the  death  of  you,  I  will." 

Mr.  Willet,  in  his  frenzy,  was  so  near  keeping  his 
word  to  the  very  letter  (Solomon  Daisy's  eyes 
already  beginning  to  roll  in  an  alarming  manner, 
and  certain  guttural  sounds,  as  of  a  choking  man, 
to  issue  from  his  throat),  that  the  two  bystanders, 
recovering  in  some  degree,  plucked  him  off  his  vic- 
tim by  main  force,  and  placed  the  little  clerk  of 
Chigwell  in  a  chair.  Directing  a  fearful  gaze  all 
round  the  room,  he  implored  them  in  a  faint  voice 


380  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

to  give  him  some  drink  ;  and  above  all  to  lock  the 
house-door  and  close  and  bar  the  shutters  of  the 
room  without  a  moment's  loss  of  time.  The  latter 
request  did  not  tend  to  re-assui'e  his  hearers,  or  to 
fill  them  with  the  most  comfortable  sensations ; 
they  complied  with  it,  however,  with  the  greatest 
expedition ;  and  having  handed  him  a  bumper  of 
brandy  and  water,  nearly  boiling  hot,  waited  to  hear 
what  he  might  have  to  tell  them. 

"  Oh,  Johnny  !  "  said  Solomon,  shaking  him  by 
the  hand.  "  Oh,  Parkes  !  Oh,  Tommy  Cobb ! 
Why  did  I  leave  this  house  to-night !  On  the 
nineteenth  of  March  —  of  all  nights  in  the  year,  on 
the  nineteenth  of  March  !  " 

They  all  drew  closer  to  the  fire.  Parkes,  who  was 
nearest  to  the  door,  started  and  looked  over  his 
shoulder.  Mr.  Willet,  with  great  indignation, 
inquired  what  the  devil  he  meant  by  that  —  and 
then  said,  "  God  forgive  me,"  and  glanced  over  his 
own  shoulder,  and  came  a  little  nearer. 

"  When  I  left  here  to-night,"  said  Solomon  Daisy, 
"  I  little  thought  what  day  of  the  month  it  was.  I 
have  never  gone  alone  into  the  church  after  dark  on 
this  day  for  seven  and  twenty  years.  I  have  heard 
it  said  that  as  we  keep  our  birthdays  when  we  are 
alive,  so  the  ghosts  of  dead  people,  who  are  not  easy 
in  their  graves,  keep  the  day  they  died  upon.  —  How 
the  wind  roars  !  " 

Nobody  spoke.  All  eyes  were  fastened  on  Solo- 
mon. 

"I  might  have  known,"  he  said,  "what  night  it 
was  by  the  foul  weather.  There's  no  such  night  in 
the  whole  year  round  as  this  is  always,  I  never  sleep 
quietly  in  my  bed  on  the  nineteenth  of  March." 


BAHNABY  KUDGE.  381 

'*  Go  on,"  said  Tom  Cobb  in  a  low  voice.  "  Nor  I 
neither." 

Solomon  Daisy  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  ;  put  it 
down  upon  the  floor  with  such  a  trembling  hand  that 
the  spoon  tinkled  in  it  like  a  little  bell ;  and  contin- 
ued thus : — 

"  Have  I  ever  said  that  we  are  always  brought 
back  to  this  subject  in  some  strange  way  when  the 
nineteenth  of  this  month  comes  round  ?  Do  you 
suppose  it  was  by  accident  I  forgot  to  wind  up  the 
church  clock  ?  I  never  forgot  it  at  any  other  time, 
though  it's  such  a  clumsy  thing  that  it  has  to  be 
wound  up  every  day.  Why  should  it  escape  my 
memory  on  this  day  of  all  others  ? 

*'I  made  as  much  haste  down  there  as  I  could 
when  I  went  from  here,  but  I  had  to  go  home  first 
for  the  keys ;  and  the  wind  and  rain  being  dead 
against  me  all  the  way,  it  was  pretty  well  as  much 
as  I  could  do  at  times  to  keep  my  legs.  I  got  there 
at  last,  opened  the  church-door,  and  went  in.  I  had 
not  met  a  soul  all  the  way,  and  you  may  judge 
whether  it  was  dull  or  not.  Neither  of  you  would 
bear  me  company.  If  you  could  have  known  what 
was  to  come,  you'd  have  been  in  the  right. 

"  The  wind  was  so  strong,  that  it  was  as  much  as 
I  could  do  to  sliut  the  church-door  by  putting  my 
whole  weight  against  it;  and  even  as  it  was,  it 
burst  wide  open  twice,  with  such  strength  that 
any  of  you  would  have  sworn,  if  you  had  been  lean- 
ing against  it  as  I  was,  that  somebody  was  pushing 
on  the  other  side.  However,  I  got  the  key  turned, 
went  into  the  belfry,  and  wound  up  the  clock  — ■ 
which  was  very  near  run  down,  and  would  have  stood 
stock-still  in  half  an  hour. 


382  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

"As  I  took  up  my  lantern  again  to  leave  the 
cliuroh,  it  came  upon  me  all  at  once  that  this  was 
the  nineteenth  of  March.  It  came  upon  me  with  a 
kind  of  shock,  as  if  a  hand  had  struck  the  thought 
upon  my  forehead;  at  the  very  same  moment,  I 
heard  a  voice  outside  the  tower  —  rising  from  among 
the  graves." 

Here  old  John  precipitately  interrupted  the 
speaker,  and  begged  that  if  Mr.  Parkes  (who  was 
seated  opposite  to  him,  and  was  staring  directly 
over  his  head)  saw  anything,  he  would  have  the 
goodness  to  mention  it.  Mr.  Parkes  apologized,  and 
remarked  that  he  was  only  listening  ;  to  which  Mr. 
Willet  angrily  retorted,  that  his  listening  with  that 
kind  of  expression  in  his  face  was  not  agreeable, 
and  that,  if  he  couldn't  look  like  other  people,  he 
had  better  put  his  pocket-handkerchief  over  his  head. 
Mr.  Parkes  with  great  submission  pledged  himself 
to  do  so,  if  again  required,  and  John  Willet,  turning 
to  Solomon,  desired  him  to  proceed.  After  waiting 
until  a  violent  gust  of  wind  and  rain,  which  seemed 
to  shake  even  that  sturdy  house  to  its  foundation, 
had  passed  away,  the  little  man  complied  :  — 

"  Never  tell  me  that  it  was  my  fancy,  or  that  it 
was  any  other  sound  which  I  mistook  for  that  I  tell 
you  of.  I  heard  the  wind  whistle  through  the 
arches  of  the  church.  I  heard  the  steeple  strain 
and  creak.  I  heard  the  rain  as  it  came  driving 
against  the  walls.  I  felt  the  bells  shake.  I  saw 
the  ropes  sway  to  and  fro.  And  I  heard  that 
voice." 

"  What  did  it  say  ?  "  asked  Tom  Cobb. 

"  I  don't  know  what ;  I  don't  know  that  it  spoke. 
It  gave  a  kind  of  cry,  as  any  one  of  us  might  do  if 


BARKABY  BUDGE.  383 

something  dreadful  followed  us  in  a  dream,  and 
came  upon  us  unawares  ;  and  then  it  died  off :  seem- 
ing to  pass  quite  round  the  church." 

"  I  don't  see  much  in  that,"  said  John,  drawing  a 
long  breath,  and  looking  round  him  like  a  man  who 
felt  relieved. 

"Perhaps  not,"  returned  his  friend,  "but  that's 
not  all." 

"  What  more  do  you  mean  to  say,  sir,  is  to  come  ?  " 
asked  John,  pausing  in  the  act  of  wiping  his  face 
upon  his  apron.  "  What  are  you  a-going  to  tell  us 
of  next  ?  " 

"  What  I  saw." 

"  Saw  !  "  echoed  all  three,  bending  forward. 

"  When  I  opened  the  church-door  to  come  out," 
said  the  little  man,  with  an  expression  of  face  which 
bore  ample  testimony  to  the  sincerity  of  his  convic- 
tion, "  when  I  opened  the  church-door  to  come  out, 
which  I  did  suddenly,  for  I  wanted  to  get  it  shut 
again  before  another  gust  of  wind  came  up,  there 
crossed  me  —  so  close,  that  by  stretching  out  my 
finger  I  could  have  touched  it  —  something  in  the 
likeness  of  a  man.  It  was  bareheaded  to  the  storm. 
It  turned  its  face  without  stopping,  and  fixed  its 
eyes  on  mine.     It  was  a  ghost  —  a  spirit." 

"  Whose  ?  "  they  all  three  cried  together. 

In  the  excess  of  his  emotion  (for  he  fell  back 
trembling  in  his  chair,  and  waved  his  hand  as  if 
entreating  them  to  question  him  no  further),  his 
answer  was  lost  on  all  but  old  John  Willet,  who 
happened  to  be  seated  close  beside  him. 

"  Who  ? "  cried  Parkes  and  Tom  Cobb,  looking 
eagerly  by  turns  at  Solomon  Daisy  and  Mr.  Willet. 
"Who  was  it?" 


384  BAENABY  RTJDGE. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Willet  after  a  long  pause, 
"you  needn't  ask.  The  likeness  of  a  murdered 
man.     This  is  the  nineteenth  of  March." 

A  profound  silence  ensued. 

"  If  you'll  take  my  advice,"  said  John,  "  we  had 
better,  one  and  all,  keep  this  a  secret.  Such  tales 
would  not  be  liked  at  the  Warren.  Let  us  keep  it 
to  ourselves  for  the  present  time  at  all  events,  or  we 
may  get  into  trouble,  and  Solomon  may  lose  his 
place.  Whether  it  was  really  as  he  says,  or  whether 
it  wasn't,  is  no  matter.  Right  or  wrong,  nobody 
would  believe  him.  As  to  the  probabilities,  I  don't 
myself  think,"'  said  Mr.  Willet,  eying  the  corners 
of  the  room  in  a  manner  which  showed  that,  like 
some  other  philosophers,  he  was  not  quite  easy  in 
his  theory,  •'  that  a  ghost  as  had  been  a  man  of  sense 
in  his  lifetime  would  be  out  a  walking  in  such  weather 
—  I  only  know  that  /wouldn't,  if  I  was  one." 

But  this  heretical  doctrine  was  strongly  opposed 
by  the  other  three,  who  quoted  a  great  many  prece- 
dents to  show  that  bad  weather  was  the  very  time 
for  such  appearances  ;  and  Mr.  Parkes  (who  had  had 
a  ghost  in  his  family,  by  the  mother's  side)  argued 
the  matter  with  so  much  ingenuity  and  force  of  illus- 
tration, that  John  was  only  saved*  from  having  to 
retract  his  opinion  by  the  opportune  appearance  of 
supper,  to  which  they  applied  themselves  with  a 
dreadful  relish.  Even  Solomon  Daisy  himself,  by 
dint  of  the  elevating  influences  of  fire,  lights, 
brandy,  and  good  company,  so  far  recovered  as  to 
handle  his  knife  and  fork  in  a  highly  creditable 
manner,  and  to  display  a  capacity  both  of  eating  and 
drinking  such  as  banished  all  fear  of  his  having  sus- 
tained any  lasting  injury  from  his  fright. 


BARNABY  KUDGE.  385 

Supper  clone,  they  crowded  round  the  fire  again, 
and,  as  is  common  on  such  occasions,  propounded 
all  manner  of  leading  questions  calculated  to  sur- 
round the  story  with  new  horrors  and  surprises. 
But  Solomon  Daisy,  notwithstanding  these  tempta- 
tions, adhered  so  steadily  to  his  original  account, 
and  repeated  it  so  often,  with  such  slight  variations, 
and  with  such  solemn  asseverations  of  its  truth  and 
reality,  that  his  hearers  were  (with  good  reason) 
more  astonished  than  at  first.  As  he  took  John 
Willet's  view  of  the  matter  in  regard  to  the  pro- 
priety of  not  bruiting  the  tale  abroad,  unless  the 
spirit  should  appear  to  him  again,  in  which  case  it 
would  be  necessary  to  take  immediate  counsel  with 
the  clergyman,  it  was  solemnly  resolved  that  it 
should  be  hushed  up  and  kept  quiet.  And  as  most 
men  like  to  have  a  secret  to  tell  which  may  exalt 
their  own  importance,  they  arrived  at  this  conclu- 
sion with  perfect  unanimity. 

As  it  was  by  this  time  growing  late,  and  was  long 
past  their  usual  hour  of  separating,  the  cronies 
parted  for  the  night.  Solomon  Daisy,  with  a  fresh 
candle  in  his  lantern,  repaired  homewards  under 
the  escort  of  long  Phil  Parkes  and  ]\Ir.  Cobb,  who 
were  rather  more  nervous  than  himself.  Mr.  Wil- 
let,  after  seeing  them  to  the  door,  returned  to  col- 
lect his  thoughts  with  the  assistance  of  the  boiler, 
and  to  listen  to  the  storm  of  wind  and  rain,  which 
had  not  yet  abated  one  jot  of  its  fury. 

VOL.  I. -25. 


CHAPTER  XXXIY. 

Before  old  John  had  looked  at  the  boiler  quite 
twenty  minutes,  he  got  his  ideas  into  a  focus,  and 
brought  them  to  bear  upon  Solomon  Daisy's  story. 
The  more  he  thought  of  it,  the  more  impressed  he 
became  with  a  sense  of  his  own  wisdom,  and  a 
desire  that  Mr.  Haredale  should  be  impressed  with 
it  likewise.  At  length,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
sustain  a  principal  and  important  character  in  the 
affair ;  and  might  have  the  start  of  Solomon  and  his 
two  friends,  through  whose  means  he  knew  the  ad- 
venture, with  a  variety  of  exaggerations,  would  be 
known  to  at  least  a  score  of  people,  and  most  likely 
to  Mr.  Haredale  himself,  by  breakfast-time  to-mor- 
row ;  he  determined  to  repair  to  the  Warren  before 
going  to  bed. 

"  He's  my  landlord,"  thought  John,  as  he  took  a 
candle  in  his  hand,  and  setting  it  down  in  a  corner 
out  of  the  wind's  way,  opened  a  casement  in  the 
rear  of  the  house,  looking  towards  the  stables. 
"We  haven't  met  of  late  years  so  often  as  we 
used  to  do  —  changes  are  taking  place  in  the  fam- 
ily—  it's  desirable  that  I  should  stand  as  well  with 
them,  in  point  of  dignity,  as  possible  —  the  whisper- 
ing about  of  this  here  tale  will  anger  him  —  it's  good 
to  have  confidences  with  a  gentleman  of  his  natur', 
386 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  387 

and  set  one's  self  right  besides.  Halloa  there ! 
Hugh  —  Hugh  !  Hal-loa ! " 

When  he  had  repeated  this  shout  a  dozen  times, 
and  startled  every  pigeon  from  its  slumbers,  a  door 
in  one  of  the  ruinous  old  buildings  opened,  and  a 
rough  voice  demanded  what  was  amiss  now,  that  a 
man  couldn't  even  have  his  sleep  in  quiet. 

''What!  Haven't  you  sleep  enough,  growler,  that 
you're  not  to  be  knocked  up  for  once  ?  "  said  John. 

"  No,"  replied  the  voice,  as  the  speaker  yawned 
and  shook  himself.     "Not  half  enough." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  can  sleep,  with  the  wind 
a  bellowsing  and  roaring  about  you,  making  the 
tiles  fly  like  a  pack  of  cards,"  said  John ;  "  but 
no  matter  for  that.  Wrap  yourself  up  in  some- 
thing or  another,  and  come  here,  for  you  must  go 
as  far  as  the  Warren  with  me.  And  look  sharp 
about  it." 

Hugh,  with  much  low  growling  and  muttering, 
went  back  into  his  lair ;  and  presently  re-appeared, 
carrying  a  lantern  and  a  cudgel,  and  enveloped  from 
head  to  foot  in  an  old,  frowzy,  slouching  horse-cloth. 
Mr.  Willet  received  this  figure  at  the  back-door,  and 
ushered  him  into  the  bar,  while  he  wrapped  himself 
in  sundry  great-coats  and  capes,  and  so  tied  and 
knotted  his  face  in  shawls  and  handkerchiefs,  that 
how  he  breathed  was  a  mystery. 

"  You  don't  take  a  man  out  of  doors  at  near  mid- 
night in  such  weather,  without  putting  some  heart 
into  him,  do  you,  master  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

"Yes,  I  do,  sir,"  returned  Mr.  Willet.  "I  put 
the  heart  (as  you  call  it)  into  him  when  he  has 
brought  me  safe  home  again,  and  his  standing 
steady  on  his  legs  ain't  of  so  much  consequence. 


388  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

So  hold  that  light  up,  if  you  please,  and  go  on  a 
step  or  two  before  to  show  the  way." 

Hugh  obeyed  with  a  very  indifferent  grace,  and  a 
longing  glance  at  the  bottles.  Old  John,  laying 
strict  injunctions  on  his  cook  to  keep  the  doors 
locked  in  his  absence,  and  to  open  to  nobody  but 
himself  on  pain  of  dismissal,  followed  him  into  the 
blustering  darkness  out  of  doors. 

The  way  was  wet  and  dismal,  and  the  night  so 
black,  that  if  Mr.  Willet  had  been  his  own  pilot,  he 
would  have  walked  into  a  deep  horse-pond  within  a 
few  hundred  yards  of  his  own  house,  and  would 
certainly  have  terminated  his  career  in  that  ignoble 
sphere  of  action.  But  Hugh,  who  had  a  sight  as  keen 
as  any  hawk's,  and,  apart  from  that  endowment,  could 
have  found  his  way  blindfold  to  any  place  within  a 
dozen  miles,  dragged  old  John  along,  quite  deaf  to 
his  remonstrances,  and  took  his  own  course  without 
the  slightest  reference  to,  or  notice  of,  his  master. 
So  they  made  head  against  the  wind  as  they  best 
could;  Hugh  brushing  the  wet  grass  beneath  his 
heavy  tread,  and  stalking  on  after  his  ordinary 
savage  fashion;  John  Willet  following  at  arm's- 
length,  picking  his  steps,  and  looking  about  him, 
now  for  bogs  and  ditches,  and  now  for  such  stray 
ghosts  as  might  be  wandering  abroad,  with  looks  of 
as  much  dismay  and  uneasiness  as  his  immovable 
face  was  capable  of  expressing. 

At  length  they  stood  upon  the  broad  gravel-walk 
before  the  Warren  house.  The  building  was  pro- 
foundly dark,  and  none  were  moving  near  it  save 
themselves.  From  one  solitary  turret  chamber, 
however,  there  shone  a  ray  of  light ;  and  towards 
this  speck  of  comfort  in  the  cold,  cheerless,  silent 
scene  Mr.  Willet  bade  his  pilot  lead  him. 


BAPvNABY   KUDGE.  389 

''  The  old  room,"  said  John,  looking  timidly  up- 
ward ;  "  Mr.  Keuben's  own  apartment,  God  be  with 
us !  I  wonder  his  brother  likes  to  sit  there  so  late 
at  night  —  on  this  night  too." 

"  Why,  where  else  should  he  sit  ? "  asked  Hugh, 
holding  the  lantern  to  his  breast  to  keep  the  candle 
from  the  wind,  while  he  trimmed  it  with  his  fingers. 
"  It's  snug  enough,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Snug  ! "  said  John  indignantly.  "  You  have  a 
comfortable  idea  of  snugness,  you  have,  sir.  Do 
you  know  what  was  done  in  that  room,  you  ruf- 
fian ?  " 

"  Wliy,  what  is  it  the  worse  for  that  ? "  cried 
Hugh,  looking  into  John's  fat  face.  '•  Does  it  keep 
out  the  rain,  and  snow,  and  wind,  the  less  for  that  ? 
Is  it  less  warm  or  dry  because  a  man  was  killed 
there  ?  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Never  believe  it,  master. 
One  man's  no  such  matter  as  that  comes  to." 

Mr.  Willet  fixed  his  dull  eyes  on  his  follower, 
and  began  —  by  a  species  of  inspiration  —  to  think 
it  just  barely  possible  that  he  was  something  of  a 
dangerous  character,  and  that  it  might  be  advisable 
to  get  rid  of  him  one  of  these  days.  He  was  too 
prudent  to  say  anything,  with  the  journey  home 
before  him ;  and  therefore  turned  to  the  iron  gate 
before  which  this  brief  dialogue  had  passed,  and 
pulled  the  handle  of  the  bell  that  hung  beside  it. 
The  turret  in  which  the  light  appeared  being  at  one 
corner  of  the  building,  and  only  divided  from  the 
path  by  one  of  the  garden  walks,  ujDon  which  this 
gate  opened,  Mr.  Haredale  threw  up  the  window 
directly,  and  demanded  who  was  there. 

« Begging  pardon,  sir,"  said  John,  "I  knew  you 
sat  up  late,  and  made  bold  to  come  round,  having  a 
word  to  say  to  you." 


390  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

''Willet  — isit  not?" 

"  Of  the  Maypole  —  at  your  service,  sir." 

Mr.  Haredale  closed  the  window,  and  withdrew. 
He  presently  appeared  at  the  door  in  the  bottom  of 
the  turret,  and  coming  across  the  garden  walk,  un- 
locked the  gate  and  let  them  in. 

"You  are  a  late  visitor,  Willet.  What  is  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing  to  speak  of,  sir,"  said  John  ;  "  an  idle 
tale  I  thought  you  ought  to  know  of;  nothing 
more." 

"  Let  your  man  go  forward  with  the  lantern,  and 
give  me  your  hand.  The  stairs  are  crooked  and 
narrow.  Gently  with  your  light,  friend.  You 
swing  it  like  a  censer." 

Hugh,  who  had  already  reached  the  turret,  held  it 
more  steadily,  and  ascended  first,  turning  round 
from  time  to  time  to  shed  its  light  downward  on 
the  steps.  Mr.  Haredale,  following  next,  eyed  his 
lowering  face  with  no  great  favor ;  and  Hugh,  look- 
ing down  on  him,  returned  his  glances  with  interest, 
as  they  climbed  the  winding  stair. 

It  terminated  in  a  little  ante-room  adjoining  that 
from  which  they  had  seen  the  light.  Mr.  Haredale 
entered  first,  and  led  the  way  through  it  into  the 
latter  chamber,  where  he  seated  himself  at  a  writ- 
ing-table from  which  he  had  risen  when  they  rang 
the  bell. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said,  beckoning  to  old  John,  who 
remained  bowing  at  the  door.  "  Xot  you,  friend," 
he  added  hastily  to  Hugh,  who  entered  also.  "Wil- 
let, why  do  you  bring  that  fellow  here  ?  " 

"  Why,  sir,"  returned  John,  elevating  his  eye- 
brows, and  lowering  his  voice  to  the  tone  in  which 


BARNABY  RTTDGE.  391 

the  question  had  been  asked  him,  "he's  a  good 
guard,  you  see." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  said  Mr.  Haredale, 
looking  towards  him  as  he  spoke.  "I  doubt  it. 
He  has  an  evil  eye." 

"There's  no  imagination  in  his  eye,"  said  Mr, 
Willet,  glancing  over  his  shoulder  at  the  organ  in 
question,  "  certainly." 

"There's  no  good  there,  be  assured,"  said  Mr. 
Haredale.  "Wait  in  that  little  room,  friend,  and 
close  the  door  between  us." 

Hugh  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  with  a  disdain- 
ful look,  which  showed  either  that  he  had  overheard 
or  that  he  guessed  the  purport  of  their  whispering, 
did  as  he  was  told.  When  he  was  shut  out,  Mr. 
Haredale  turned  to  John,  and  bade  him  go  on  with 
what  he  had  to  say,  but  not  to  speak  too  loud,  for 
there  were  quick  ears  yonder. 

Thus  cautioned,  Mr.  Willet,  in  an  oily  whisper, 
recited  all  that  he  had  heard  and  said  that  night ; 
laying  particular  stress  upon  his  own  sagacity,  upon 
his  great  regard  for  the  family,  and  upon  his  solici- 
tude for  their  peace  of  mind  and  happiness.  The 
story  moved  his  auditor  much  more  than  he  had 
expected.  Mr.  Haredale  often  changed  his  attitude, 
rose  and  paced  the  room,  returned  again,  desired 
him  to  repeat,  as  nearly  as  he  could,  the  very  words 
that  Solomon  had  used,  and  gave  so  many  other 
signs  of  being  disturbed  and  ill  at  ease,  that  even 
Mr.  Willet  was  surprised. 

"You  did  quite  right,"  he  said  at  the  end  of  a 
long  conversation,  "to  bid  them  keep  this  story 
secret.  It  is  a  foolish  fancy  on  the  part  of  this 
weak-brained  man,  bred  in  his  fears  and  superstition. 


892  BAKNABY   RUDGE. 

But  ]\[iss  Haredale,  though  she  Avould  know  it  to 
be  so,  would  be  disturbed  b}'  it  if  it  reached  her 
ears;  it  is  too  nearly  connected  Avith  a  subject  very 
painful  to  us  all,  to  be  heai-d  with  indifference.  You 
were  most  prudent,  and  have  laid  nie  under  a  great 
obligation.     I  thank  you  very  much." 

This  was  equal  to  John's  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tions ;  but  he  would  have  preferred  ]\Ir.  Haredale's 
looking  at  him,  when  he  spoke,  as  if  he  really  did 
thank  him,  to  his  walking  up  and  down,  speaking 
by  fits  and  starts,  often  stopping  with  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  ground,  moving  hurriedly  on  again,  like  one 
distracted,  and  seeming  almost  unconscious  of  what 
he  said  or  did. 

This,  however,  was  his  manner ;  and  it  was  so  em- 
barrassing to  John  that  he  sat  quite  passive  for  a 
long  time,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  At  length  he 
rose.  Mr.  Haredale  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  as 
though  he  had  quite  forgotten  his  being  present, 
then  shook  hands  with  him  and  opened  the  door. 
Hugh,  who  was,  or  feigned  to  be,  fast  asleep  on  the 
ante-chamber  floor,  sprang  up  on  their  entrance,  and 
throwing  his  cloak  about  him,  grasped  his  stick  and 
lantern,  and  prepared  to  descend  the  stairs. 

"Stay,"  said  Mr.  Haredale.  "Will  this  man 
drink  ?"" 

"  Drink !  He'd  drink  the  Thames  up,  if  it  was 
strong  enough,  sir,"  replied  John  Willet,  "He'll 
have  something  when  he  gets  home.  He's  better 
without  it  now,  sir." 

"Nay,  half  the  distance  is  done,"  said  Hugh. 
"  What  a  hard  master  you  are !  I  shall  go  home  the 
better  for  one  glassful  half-way.     Come  !  " 

As  John  made  no  reply,  Mr.  Haredale  brought 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  393 

out  a  glass  of  liquor,  and  gave  it  to  Hugh,  who,  as 
he  took  it  in  his  hand,  threw  part  of  it  upon  the 
floor. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  splashing  your  drink 
about  a  gentleman's  house,  sir  ?  "  said  John. 

"I'm  drinking  a  toast,"  Hugh  rejoined,  holding 
the  glass  above  his  head,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  Mr. 
Haredale's  face ;  "  a  toast  to  this  house  and  its 
master."  With  that  he  muttered  something  to 
himself,  and  drank  the  rest,  and  setting  down  the 
glass,  preceded  them  without  another  word. 

John  was  a  good  deal  scandalized  by  this  observ- 
ance, but  seeing  that  Mr.  Haredale  took  little  heed 
of  what  Hugh  said  or  did,  and  that  his  thoughts  were 
otherwise  employed,  he  offered  no  apology,  and  went 
in  silence  down  the  stairs,  across  the  walk,  and 
through  the  garden-gate.  They  stopped  upon  the 
outer  side  for  Hugh  to  hold  the  light  while  Mr. 
Haredale  locked  it  on  the  inner;  and  then  John 
saw  with  wonder  (as  he  often  afterwards  related), 
that  he  was  very  pale,  and  that  his  face  had  changed 
so  much  and  grown  so  haggard  since  their  entrance, 
that  he  almost  seemed  another  man. 

They  were  in  the  open  road  again,  and  John  Wil- 
let  was  walking  on  behind  his  escort,  as  he  had 
come,  thinking  very  steadily  of  what  he  had  just 
now  seen,  when  Hugh  drew  him  suddenly  aside,  and 
almost  at  the  same  instant  three  horsemen  swept 
past  —  the  nearest  brushed  his  shoulder  even  then 
—  who,  checking  their  steeds  as  suddenly  as  they 
could,  stood  still,  and  waited  for  their  coming  up. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

When  John  Willet  saw  that  the  horsemen  wheeled 
smartly  round  and  drew  up  three  abreast  in  the  nar- 
row road,  waiting  for  him  and  his  man  to  join  them, 
it  occurred  to  him  with  unusual  precipitation  that 
they  must  be  highwaymen;  and  had  Hugh  been 
armed  with  a  blunderbuss,  in  place  of  his  stout 
cudgel,  he  would  certainly  have  ordered  him  to  fire 
it  off  at  a  venture,  and  would,  Avhile  the  word  of 
command  was  obeyed,  have  consulted  his  own  per- 
sonal safety  in  immediate  flight.  Under  the  circum- 
stances of  disadvantage,  however,  in  which  he  and 
his  guard  were  placed,  he  deemed  it  prudent  to 
adopt  a  different  style  of  generalship,  and  therefore 
whispered  his  attendant  to  address  them  in  the  most 
peaceable  and  courteous  terms,  By  way  of  acting 
np  to  the  spirit  and  letter  of  this  instruction,  Hugh 
stepped  forward,  and  flourishing  his  staff  before  the 
very  eyes  of  the  rider  nearest  to  him,  demanded 
roughly  what  he  and  his  fellows  meant  by  so  nearly 
galloping  over  them,  and  why  tliey  scoured  the  king's 
highway  at  that  late  hour  of  night. 

The  man  whom  he  addressed  was  beginning  an 
angry  reply  in  the  same  strain,  when  he  was  checked 
by  the  liorsemau  in  the  centre,  who,  interposing 
394 


BAKNABY   KUDGE.  395 

with  an  air  of  authority,  inquired  in  a  somewhat 
loud  but  not  harsh  or  unpleasant  voice :  — 

"  Pray  is  this  the  London  Road  ?  " 

"If  you  follow  it  right,  it  is,"  replied  Hugh 
roughly. 

"Nay,  brother,"  said  the  same  person,  "you're  but 
a  churlish  Englishman,  if  Englishman  you  be  — 
which  I  should  much  doubt  but  for  your  tongue. 
Your  companion,  I  am  sure,  will  answer  me  more 
civilly.     How  say  you,  friend  ?  " 

"I  say  it  is  the  London  Road,  sir,"  answered 
John.  "  And  I  wish,"  he  added  in  a  subdued  voice, 
as  he  turned  to  Hugh,  "  that  you  was  in  any  other 
road,  you  vagabond.  Are  you  tired  of  your  life,  sir, 
that  you  go  a  trying  to  provoke  three  great  neck-or- 
nothing  chaps,  that  could  keep  on  running  over  us, 
back'ards  and  for'ards,  till  we  was  dead,  and  then 
take  our  bodies  up  behind  'em,  and  drown  us  ten 
miles  off?" 

"  How  far  is  it  to  London  ?  "  inquired  the  same 
speaker. 

"  Why,  from  here,  sir,"  answered  John  persua- 
sively, "  it's  thirteen  very  easy  mile." 

The  adjective  was  thrown  in  as  an  inducement  to 
the  travellers  to  ride  away  with  all  speed;  but, 
instead  of  having  the  desired  effect,  it  elicited  from 
the  same  person  the  remark,  "  Thirteen  miles ! 
That's  a  long  distance ! "  which  was  followed  by  a 
short  pause  of  indecision. 

"  Pray,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  are  there  any  inns 
hereabouts  ?  " 

At  the  word  "  inns,"  John  plucked  up  his  spirit  in 
a  surprising  manner ;  his  fears  rolled  off  like  smoke ; 
all  the  landlord  stirred  within  him. 


396  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

"There  are  no  inns,"  rejoined  Mr.  Willet,  with  a 
strong  emphasis  on  the  phiral  number ;  '*  but  there's 
a  Inn  —  one  Inn — the  Maypole  Inn.  That's  a 
Inn  indeed.  You  won't  see  tlie  like  of  that  Inn 
often." 

"  You  keep  it  perhaps  ?  "  said  the  horseman, 
smiling. 

"  I  do,  sir,"  replied  John,  greatly  wondering  how 
he  had  found  this  out. 

"  And  how  far  is  the  Maypole  from  here  ?  " 

"  About  a  mile."  John  was  going  to  add  that  it 
was  the  easiest  mile  in  all  the  world,  when  the  third 
rider,  who  had  hitherto  kept  a  little  in  the  rear,  sud- 
denly interposed  :  — 

"  And  have  you  one  excellent  bed,  landlord  ? 
Hem !  A  bed  that  you  can  recommend  —  a  bed  that 
you  are  sure  is  well  aired  —  a  bed  that  has  been 
slept  in  by  some  perfectly  respectable  and  unex- 
ceptionable person." 

"  We  don't  take  in  no  tagrag  and  bobtail  at  our 
house,  sir,"  answered  John.  "And  as  to  the  bed 
itself  —  " 

"  Say,  as  to  three  beds,"  interposed  the  gentleman 
who  had  spoken  before  ;  "  for  we  shall  want  three  if 
we  stay,  though  my  friend  only  speaks  of  one." 

"  No,  no,  my  lord ;  you  are  too  good,  you  are  too 
kind ;  but  your  life  is  of  far  too  much  importance 
to  the  nation,  in  these  portentous  times,  to  be  placed 
upon  a  level  with  one  so  useless  and  so  poor  as  mine. 
A  great  cause,  my  lord,  a  mighty  cause,  depends  on 
you.  You  are  its  leader  and  its  champion,  its  ad- 
vanced guard  and  its  van.  It  is  the  cause  of  our 
altars  and  our  homes,  our  country  and  our  faith. 
Let  me  sleep  on  a  chair  —  the  carpet  —  anywhere. 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  397 

No  one  will  repine  if  I  take  cold  or  fever.  Let  John 
Grueby  pass  the  night  beneath  the  open  sky  —  no 
one  will  repine  for  him.  But  forty  thousand  men 
of  this  our  island  in  the  wave  (exclusive  of  women 
and  children)  rivet  their  eyes  and  thoughts  on  Lord 
George  Gordon ;  and  every  day,  from  the  rising  up 
of  the  sun  to  the  going  down  of  the  same,  pray  for 
has  health  and  vigor.  My  lord,"  said  the  speaker, 
rising  m  his  stirrups,  "it  is  a  glorious  cause,  and 
must  not  be  forgotten.  My  lord,  it  is  a  mighty 
cause,  and  must  not  be  endangered.  My  lord,  it  is  a 
holy  cause,  and  must  not  be  deserted." 

"It  is  a  holy  cause,"  exclaimed  his  lordship,  lift- 
ing vip  his  hat  with  great  solemnity.     "  Amen  !  " 

"  John  Grueby,"  said  the  long-winded  gentleman, 
in  a  tone  of  mild  reproof,  "his  lordship  said 
Amen." 

"I  heard  my  lord,  sir,"  said  the  man,  sitting  like 
a  statue  on  his  horse. 

"And  do  not  you  say  Amen,  likewise  ?  " 

To  which  John  Grueby  made  no  reply  at  all,  but 
sat  looking  straight  before  him. 

"  You  surprise  me,  Grueby,"  said  the  gentleman. 
"  At  a  crisis  like  the  present,  when  Queen  Elizabeth, 
that  maiden  monarch,  weeps  within  her  tomb,  and 
Bloody  Mary,  with  a  brow  of  gloom  and  shadow, 
stalks  triumphant  —  " 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  the  man  gruffly,  "  where's  the  use 
of  talking  of  Bloody  Mary  under  such  circumstances 
as  the  present,  when  my  lord's  wet  through  and 
tired  with  hard  riding  ?  Let's  either  go  on  to  Lon- 
don, sir,  or  put  up  at  once ;  or  that  unfort'nate 
Bloody  Mary  will  have  more  to  answer  for  —  and 
she's  done  a  deal  more  harm  in  her  grave  than  she 
ever  did  in  her  lifetime,  I  believe." 


398  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

By  this  time  Mr.  Willet,  who  had  never  heard  so 
many  words  spoken  together  at  one  time,  or  deliv- 
ered with  such  volubility  and  emphasis  as  by  the 
long-winded  gentleman ;  and  whose  brain,  being 
wholly  unable  to  sustain  or  compass  them,  had 
quite  given  itself  up  for  lost ;  recovered  so  far  as  to 
observe  that  there  was  ample  accommodation  at  the 
Maypole  for  all  the  party :  good  beds  ;  neat  wines  ; 
excellent  entertainment  for  man  and  beast ;  private 
rooms  for  large  or  small  parties ;  dinners  dressed 
upon  the  shortest  notice ;  choice  stabling  and  a 
lock-up  coach-house ;  and,  in  short,  to  run  over  such 
recommendatory  scraps  of  language  as  were  painted 
up  on  various  portions  of  the  building,  and  which, 
in  the  course  of  some  forty  years,  he  had  learned  to 
repeat  with  some  tolerable  correctness.  He  was  con- 
sidering whether  it  was  at  all  possible  to  insert  any 
novel  sentences  to  the  same  purpose,  when  the  gen- 
tleman who  had  spoken  first,  turning  to  him  of  the 
long  wind,  exclaimed,  "What  say  you,  Gashford? 
Shall  we  tarry  at  this  house  he  speaks  of,  or  press 
forward  ?     You  shall  decide." 

"I  would  submit,  my  lord,  then,"  returned  the 
person  he  appealed  to,  in  a  silky  tone,  "  that  your 
health  and  spirits  —  so  important,  under  Providence, 
to  our  great  cause,  our  pure  and  truthful  cause  "  — 
here  his  lordship  pulled  off  his  hat  again,  though 
it  was  raining  hard  —  "require  refreshment  and 
repose." 

"  Go  on  before,  landlord,  and  show  the  way," 
said  Lord  George  Gordon  ;  "  we  will  follow  at  a 
foot-pace." 

"If  you'll  give  me  leave,  my  lord,"  said  John 
Grueby  in  a  low  voice,  "  I'll  change  my  proper  place, 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  399 

and  ride  before  you.  The  looks  of  the  landlord's 
friend  are  not  over-honest,  and  it  may  be  as  well  to 
be  cautious  with  him." 

"John  Grueby  is  quite  right,"  interposed  Mr. 
Gashford,  falling  back  hastily.  "  My  lord,  a  life  so 
precious  as  yours  must  not  be  put  in  peril.  Go  for- 
ward, John,  by  all  means.  If  you  have  any  reason 
to  suspect  the  fellow,  blow  his  brains  out." 

John  made  no  answer,  but  looking  straight  before 
him,  as  his  custom  seemed  to  be  when  the  secretary 
spoke,  bade  Hugh  push  on,  and  followed  close  behind 
him.  Then  came  his  lordship,  with  Mr.  Willet  at 
his  bridle  rein ;  and,  last  of  all,  his  lordship's  secre- 
tary —  for  that,  it  seemed,  was  Gashford's  office. 

Hugh  strode  briskly  on,  often  looking  back  at 
the  servant,  whose  horse  was  close  upon  his  heels, 
and  glancing  with  a  leer  at  his  holster  case  of  pis- 
tols, by  which  he  seemed  to  set  great  store.  He 
was  a  square-built,  strong-made,  bull-necked  fellow, 
of  the  true  English  breed ;  and  as  Hugh  measured 
him  with  his  eye,  he  measured  Hugh,  regarding 
him  meanwhile  with  a  look  of  bluff  disdain.  He 
was  much  older  than  the  Maypole  man,  being  to  all 
appearance  five  and  forty ;  but  was  one  of  those  self- 
possessed,  hard-headed,  imperturbable  fellows,  who, 
if  they  ever  are  beat  at  fisticuffs,  or  other  kind  of 
warfare,  never  know  it,  and  go  on  coolly  till  they 
win. 

"  If  I  led  you  wrong  now,"  said  Hugh  tauntingly, 
"  you'd  —  ha,  ha,  ha !  —  you'd  shoot  me  through  the 
head,  I  suppose." 

John  Grueby  took  no  more  notice  of  this  remark 
than  if  he  had  been  deaf,  and  Hugh  dumb :  but  kept 
riding  on,  quite  comfortably,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  horizon. 


400  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

"  Did  you  ever  try  a  fall  with  a  man  when  you 
were  young,  master  ?  "  said  Hugh.  '^  Can  you  make 
any  play  at  single-stick  ?  " 

John  Grueby  looked  at  him  sideways  with  the 
same  contented  air,  but  deigned  not  a  word  in 
answer. 

"  —  Like  this  ?  "  said  Hugh,  giving  his  cudgel 
one  of  those  skilful  flourishes  in  which  the  rustic 
of  that  time  delighted.     ''  Whoop  !  " 

"  —  Or  that,"  returned  John  Grueby,  beating  down 
his  guard  with  his  whip,  and  striking  him  on  the 
head  with  its  but-end.  "Yes,  I  played  a  little 
once.  You  wear  your  hair  too  long ;  I  should  have 
cracked  your  crown  if  it  had  been  a  little  shorter." 

It  was  a  pretty  smart,  loud-sounding  rap  as  it  was, 
and  evidently  astonished  Hugh ;  who,  for  the  mo- 
ment, seemed  disposed  to  drag  his  new  acquaintance 
from  his  saddle.  But  his  face  betokening  neither 
malice,  triumph,  rage,  nor  any  lingering  idea  that 
he  had  given  him  offence  ;  his  eyes  gazing  steadily 
in  the  old  direction,  and  his  manner  being  as  care- 
less and  composed  as  if  he  had  merely  brushed 
away  a  fly ;  Hugh  was  so  puzzled,  and  so  disposed 
to  look  upon  him  as  a  customer  of  almost  supernat- 
ural toughness,  that  he  merely  laughed,  and  cried 
"  Well  done ! "  then,  sheering  off  a  little,  led  the 
way  in  silence. 

Before  the  lapse  of  many  minutes  the  party 
halted  at  the  Maypole  door.  Lord  George  and  his 
secretary,  quickly  dismounting,  gave  their  horses  to 
their  servant,  who,  under  the  guidance  of  Hugh, 
repaired  to  the  stables.  Eight  glad  to  escape  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  night,  they  followed  Mr.  Wil- 
let  into  the  common  room,  and  stood  warming  them- 


BARNABY  EUDGE.  401 

selves  and  drying  their  clothes  before  the  cheerful 
fire,  while  he  busied  himself  with  such  orders  and 
preparations  as  his  guest's  high  quality  required. 

As  he  bustled  in  and  out  of  the  room,  intent  on 
these  arrangements,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  ob- 
serving the  two  travellers,  of  whom,  as  yet,  he 
knew  nothing  but  the  voice.  The  lord,  the  great 
personage,  who  did  the  Maypole  so  much  honor, 
was  about  the  middle  height,  of  a  slender  make,  and 
sallow  complexion,  with  an  aquiline  nose,  and  long 
hair  of  a  reddish  brown,  combed  perfectly  straight 
and  smooth  about  his  ears,  and  slightly  powdered, 
but  without  the  faintest  vestige  of  a  curl.  He  was 
attired,  under  his  great-coat,  in  a  full  suit  of  black, 
quite  free  from  any  ornament,  and  of  the  most  pre- 
cise and  sober  cut.  The  gravity  of  his  dress,  to- 
gether with  a  certain  lankness  of  cheek  and  stiffness 
of  deportment,  added  nearly  ten  years  to  his  age, 
but  his  figure  was  that  of  one  not  yet  past  thirty. 
As  he  stood  musing  in  the  red  glow  of  the  fire,  it 
was  striking  to  observe  his  very  bright  large  eye, 
which  betrayed  a  restlessness  of  thought  and  pur- 
pose, singularly  at  variance  with  the  studied  com- 
posure and  sobriety  of  his  mien,  and  with  his  quaint 
and  sad  apparel.  It  had  nothing  harsh  or  cruel  in 
its  expression  ;  neither  had  his  face,  which  was  thin 
and  mild,  and  wore  an  air  of  melancholy  ;  but  it  was 
suggestive  of  an  indefinable  uneasiness,  which  in- 
fected those  who  looked  upon  him,  and  filled  them 
with  a  kind  of  pity  for  the  man :  though  why  it  did 
so  they  would  have  had  some  trouble  to  explain. 

Gashford,  the  secretary,  was  taller,  angularly 
made,  high-shouldered,  bony,  and  ungraceful.  His 
dress,  in  imitation  of  his  superior,  was  demure  and 

VOL.  1.-26. 


402  BAHNABY  RUDGE. 

staid  in  the  extreme ;  his  manner,  formal  and  con- 
strained. This  gentleman  had  an  overhanging  brow, 
great  hands  and  feet  and  ears,  and  a  pair  of  eyes 
that  seemed  to  have  made  an  unnatural  retreat  into 
his  head,  and  to  have  dug  themselves  a  cave  to  hide 
in.  His  manner  was  smooth  and  humble,  but  very 
sly  and  slinking.  He  wore  the  aspect  of  a  man  who 
was  always  lying  in  wait  for  something  that  would7i''t 
come  to  pass  ;  but  he  looked  patient  —  very  patient 
—  and  fawned  like  a  spaniel  dog.  Even  now,  while 
he  warmed  and  rubbed  his  hands  before  the  blaze, 
he  had  the  air  of  one  who  only  presumed  to  enjoy 
it  in  his  degree  as  a  commoner;  and  though  he 
knew  his  lord  was  not  regarding  him,  he  looked 
into  his  face  from  time  to  time,  and,  with  a  meek 
and  deferential  manner,  smiled  as  if  for  practice. 

Such  were  the  guests  Avhom  old  John  Willet, 
with  a  fixed  and  leaden  eye,  surveyed  a  hundred 
times,  and  to  whom  he  now  advanced,  with  a  state 
candlestick  in  each  hand,  beseeching  them  to  follow 
him  into  a  worthier  chamber.  "  For,  my  lord,"  said 
John  —  it  is  odd  enough,  but  certain  people  seem  to 
have  as  great  a  pleasure  in  pronouncing  titles  as 
their  owners  have  in  wearing  them  —  "  this  room, 
my  lord,  isn't  at  all  the  sort  of  place  for  your  lord- 
ship, and  I  have  to  beg  your  lordship's  pardon  for 
keeping  you  here,  my  lord,  one  minute." 

With  this  address  John  ushered  them  upstairs 
into  the  state  apartment,  which,  like  many  other 
things  of  state,  was  cold  and  comfortless.  Their 
own  footsteps,  reverberating  through  the  spacious 
room,  struck  upon  their  hearing  with  a  hollow 
sound ;  and  its  damp  and  chilly  atmosphere  was 
rendered  doubly  cheerless  by  contrast  with  the 
homely  warmth  they  had  deserted. 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  403 

It  was  of  no  use,  however,  to  propose  a  return  to 
the  place  they  had  quitted,  for  the  preparations 
went  on  so  briskly  that  there  was  no  time  to  stop 
them.  John,  with  the  tall  candlesticks  in  his  hands, 
bowed  them  up  to  the  fireplace ;  Hugh,  striding  in 
•with  a  lighted  brand  and  a  pile  of  firewood,  cast  it 
down  upon  the  hearth  and  set  it  in  a  blaze ;  John 
Grueby  (who  had  a  great  blue  cockade  in  his  hat, 
which  he  appeared  to  despise  mightil}^)  brought  in 
the  portmanteau  he  had  carried  on  his  horse,  and 
placed  it  on  the  floor ;  and  presently  all  three  were 
busily  engaged  in  drawing  out  the  screen,  laying  the 
cloth,  inspecting  the  beds,  lighting  fires  in  the  bed- 
rooms, expediting  the  supper,  and  making  everything 
as  cosey  and  as  snug  as  might  be  on  so  short  a  notice. 
In  less  than  an  hour's  time  supper  had  been  served 
and  ate,  and  cleared  away ;  and  Lord  George  and 
his  secretary,  with  slippered  feet  and  legs  stretched 
out  before  the  fire,  sat  over  some  hot  mulled  wine 
together. 

"  So  ends,  my  lord,"  said  Gashford,  filling  his  glass 
with  great  complacency,  "  the  blessed  work  of  a  most 
blessed  day." 

"  And  of  a  blessed  yesterday,"  said  his  lordship, 
raising  his  head. 

"  Ah!"  —  and  here  the  secretary  clasped  his  hands 
—  "a  blessed  yesterday  indeed !  The  Protestants 
of  Suffolk  are  godly  men  and  true.  Though  others 
of  our  countrymen  have  lost  their  way  in  darkness, 
even  as  we,  my  lord,  did  lose  our  road  to-night,  theirs 
is  the  light  and  glory." 

"  Did  I  move  them,  Gashford  ?  "  said  Lord  George. 

'•'  Move  them,  my  lord  !  Move  them  !  They  cried 
to  be  led  on  against  the  Papists,  they  vowed  a  dread- 


404  BAENABY   BUDGE. 

fill  vengeance  on  their  heads,  they  roared  like  men 
possessed  —  " 

"  But  not  by  devils,"  said  his  lord. 

"  By  devils  !  my  lord  !     By  angels." 

"Yes  —  oh,  surely  —  by  angels,  no  doubt,"  said 
Lord  George,  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
taking  them  out  again  to  bite  his  nails,  and  looking 
uncomfortably  at  the  fire.  ''Of  course  by  angels  — 
eh,  Gashford  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  doubt  it,  my  lord  ?  "  said  the  secre- 
tary. 

"  No  —  no,"  returned  his  lord.  "  No.  Why 
should  I  ?  I  suppose  it  would  be  decidedly  irre- 
ligious to  doubt  it  —  wouldn't  it,  Gashford  ?  Though 
there  certainly  were,"  he  added,  without  waiting  for 
an  answer,  "some  plaguy  ill-looking  characters 
among  them." 

"  When  you  warmed,"  said  the  secretary,  looking 
sharply  at  the  other's  downcast  eyes,  which  bright- 
ened slowly  as  he  spoke ;  "  when  you  warmed  into 
that  noble  outbreak :  when  you  told  them  that  you 
were  never  of  the  lukewarm  or  the  timid  tribe,  and 
bade  them  take  heed  that  they  were  prepared  to  fol- 
low one  who  Avould  lead  them  on,  though  to  the  very 
death !  when  you  spoke  of  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  men  across  the  Scottish  border  who  would 
take  their  own  redress  at  any  time,  if  it  were  not 
conceded ;  when  you  cried,  '  Perish  the  Pope  and  all 
his  base  adherents ;  the  penal  laws  against  them 
shall  never  be  repealed  while  Englishmen  have 
hearts  and  hands ' —  and  waved  your  own,  and  touched 
your  sword  ;  and  when  they  cried,  '  No  Popery ! ' 
and  you  cried  '  No ;  not  even  if  we  wade  in  blood,' 
and  they  threw  up  their  hats  and  cried,  '  Hurrah ! 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  405 

not  even  if  we  wade  in  blood !  No  Popery  !  Lord 
George!  Down  with  the  Papists  —  vengeance  on 
their  heads  ; '  when  this  was  said  and  done,  and  a 
word  from  you,  my  lord,  could  raise  or  still  the 
tumult  —  ah  !  then  I  felt  what  greatness  was  indeed, 
and  thought,  When  was  there  ever  power  like  this 
of  Lord  George  Gordon's  ?  " 

"  It's  a  great  power.  You're  right.  It  is  a  great 
power ! "  he  cried  with  sparkling  eyes.  "  But  — 
dear  Gashf ord  —  did  I  really  say  all  that  ?  " 

"  And  how  much  more  !  "  cried  the  secretary,  look- 
ing upwards.     "  Ah  !  how  much  more  !  " 

"  And  I  told  them  what  you  say  about  the  one 
hundred  and  forty  thousand  men  in  Scotland,  did 
I  ? "  he  asked  with  evident  delight.  "  That  was 
bold." 

"  Our  cause  is  boldness.     Truth  is  always  bold." 

"Certainly.  So  is  religion.  She's  bold,  Gash- 
ford  ?  " 

"  The  true  religion  is,  my  lord." 

"  And  that's  ours,"  he  rejoined,  moving  uneasily 
in  his  seat,  and  biting  his  nails  as  though  he  would 
pare  them  to  the  quick.  "  There  can  be  no  doubt  of 
ours  being  the  true  one.  You  feel  as  certain  of  that 
as  I  do,  Gashford,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Does  my  lord  ask  me,"  whined  Gashford,  draw- 
ing his  chair  nearer  with  an  injured  air,  and  laying 
his  broad  flat  hand  upon  the  table  ;  "  me,"  he  re- 
peated, bending  the  dark  hollows  of  his  eyes  upon 
him  with  an  unwholesome  smile,  "  who,  stricken  by 
the  magic  of  his  eloquence  in  Scotland  but  a  year 
ago,  abjured  the  errors  of  the  Romish  church,  and 
clung  to  him  as  one  whose  timely  hand  had  plucked 
me  from  the  pit  ?  " 


406  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

"  True.  No  — no.  I  —  I  didn't  mean  it,"  replied 
the  other,  shaking  him  by  the  hand,  rising  from  his 
seat,  and  pacing  restlessly  about  the  room.  "  It's  a 
proud  thing  to  lead  the  people,  Gashford,"  he  added 
as  he  made  a  sudden  halt. 

"  By  force  of  reason  too,"  returned  the  pliant  sec- 
retary. 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure.  They  may  cough,  and  jeer,  and 
groan  in  Parliament,  and  call  me  fool  and  madman, 
but  which  of  them  can  raise  this  human  sea  and 
make  it  swell  and  roar  at  pleasure  ?     Not  one." 

"  Not  one,"  repeated  Gashford. 

"  Which  of  them  can  say  for  his  honesty  what  I 
can  say  for  mine  ;  which  of  them  has  refused  a  min- 
ister's bribe  of  one  thousand  pounds  a  year,  to  resign 
his  seat  in  favor  of  another  ?     Not  one." 

"  Not  one,"  repeated  Gashford  again  —  taking  the 
lion's  share  of  the  mulled  wine  between  whiles. 

"And  as  we  are  honest,  true,  and  in  a  sacred 
cause,  Gashford,"  said  Lord  George,  with  a  height- 
ened color  and  in  a  louder  voice,  as  he  laid  his  fevered 
hand  upon  his  shoulder,  ^'  and  are  the  only  men  who 
regard  the  mass  of  people  out  of  doors,  or  are 
regarded  by  them,  we  will  uphold  them  to  the  last ; 
and  will  raise  a  cry  against  these  un-English  Papists 
which  shall  re-echo  througli  the  country,  and  roll 
witli  a  noise  like  thunder.  I  will  be  worthy  of  the 
motto  on  my  coat  of  arms,  '  Called  and  chosen  and 
faithful.' " 

"  Called,"  said  the  secretary,  "  by  Heaven." 

''  I  am." 

"  Chosen  by  the  people." 

"Yes." 

"  Faithful  to  both." 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  407 

"To  the  block!" 

It  would  be  difficult  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  excited  manner  in  which  he  gave  these  answers 
to  the  secretary's  promptings ;  of  the  rapidity  of  his 
utterance,  or  the  violence  of  his  tone  and  gesture ; 
in  which,  struggling  through  his  Puritan's  demeanor, 
was  something  wild  and  ungovernable  which  broke 
through  all  restraint.  For  some  minutes  he  walked 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  room,  then  stopping  sud- 
denly, exclaimed,  — 

"  Gashford  —  You  moved  them  yesterday  too. 
Oh  yes  !     You  did." 

"  I  shone  with  a  reflected  light,  my  lord,"  replied 
the  humble  secretary,  laying  his  hand  upon  his 
heart.     "  I  did  my  best." 

"  You  did  well,"  said  his  master,  "  and  are  a  great 
and  worthy  instrument.  If  you  will  ring  for  John 
Grueby  to  carry  the  portmanteau  into  my  room,  and 
will  wait  here  while  I  undress,  we  will  dispose  of 
business  as  usual,  if  you  are  not  too  tired." 

"  Too  tired,  my  lord  !  —  But  this  is  his  considera- 
tion !  —  Christian  from  head  to  foot."  With  which 
soliloquy,  the  secretary  tilted  the  jug,  and  looked 
very  hard  into  the  mulled  wine,  to  see  how  much 
remained. 

John  Willet  and  John  Grueby  appeared  together. 
The  one  bearing  the  great  candlesticks,  and  the 
other  the  portmanteau,  showed  the  deluded  lord 
into  his  chamber;  and  left  the  secretary  alone,  to 
yawn  and  shake  himself,  and  finally,  to  fall  asleep 
before  the  fire, 

"Now,  Mr,  Gashford,  sir,"  said  John  Grueby  in 
his  ear,  after  what  appeared  to  him  a  moment  of  un- 
consciousness ;  "  my  lord's  abed." 


408  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

"  Oh !  Very  good,  John,"  was  his  mild  reply. 
*'  Thank  you,  John.  Nobody  need  sit  up.  I  know 
my  room." 

"  I  hope  you're  not  a-going  to  trouble  your  head 
to-night,  or  my  lord's  head  neither,  with  anything 
more  about  Bloody  Mary,"  said  John.  "  I  wish  the 
blessed  old  creetur  had  never  been  born." 

"  I  said  you  might  go  to  bed,  John,"  returned  the 
secretary.     "  You  didn't  hear  me,  I  think." 

"Between  Bloody  Marys,  and  blue  cockades,  and 
glorious  Queen  Besses,  and  no  Poperys,  and  Protes- 
tant associations,  and  making  of  speeches,"  pursued 
John  Grueby,  looking,  as  usual,  a  long  way  off,  and 
taking  no  notice  of  this  hint,  "  my  lord's  half  off  his 
head.  When  we  go  out  o'  doors,  siich  a  set  of  raga- 
muffins comes  a  shouting  after  us,  '  Gordon  forever ! ' 
that  I'm  ashamed  of  myself,  and  don't  know  where 
to  look.  When  we're  indoors,  they  come  a  roaring 
and  screaming  about  the  house  like  so  many  devils ; 
and  my  lord,  instead  of  ordering  them  to  be  drove 
away,  goes  out  into  the  balcony  and  demeans  him- 
self by  making  speeches  to  'em,  and  calls  'em  '  Men 
of  England,'  and  '  Fellow-countrymen,'  as  if  he  was 
fond  of  'em,  and  thanked  'em  for  coming.  I  can't 
make  it  out,  but  they're  all  mixed  up  somehow  or 
another  with  that  unfort'nate  Bloody  Mary,  and  call 
her  name  out  till  they're  hoarse.  They're  all  Prot- 
estants too  —  every  man  and  boy  among  'em:  and 
Protestants  is  very  fond  of  spoons  I  find,  and  silver 
plate  in  general,  whenever  area-gates  is  left  open 
accidentally.  I  wish  that  was  the  worst  of  it,  and 
that  no  more  harm  might  be  to  come ;  but  if  you 
don't  stop  these  ugly  customers  in  time,  Mr.  Gash- 
ford  (and  I  know  you;  you're  the  man  that  blows 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  409 

the  fire),  you'll  find  'em  grow  a  little  bit  too  strong 
for  you.  One  of  these  evenings,  -v^hen  the  weather 
gets  warmer  and  Protestants  are  thirsty,  they'll  be 
pulling  London  down,  —  and  I  never  heerd  that 
Bloody  Mary  went  as  far  as  thatP 

Gashford  had  vanished  long  ago,  and  these  re- 
marks had  been  bestowed  on  empty  air.  Not  at  all 
discomposed  by  the  discovery,  John  Grueby  fixed 
his  hat  on  wrong  side  foremost,  that  he  might  be 
unconscious  of  the  shadow  of  the  obnoxious  cock- 
ade, and  withdrew  to  bed;  shaking  his  head  in  a 
very  gloomy  and  prophetic  manner  until  he  reached 
his  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

G-ASHFORD,  with  a  smiling  face,  but  still  with 
looks  of  profound  deference  and  humility,  betook 
himself  towards  his  master's  room,  smoothing  his 
hair  down  as  he  went,  and  humming  a  psalm  tune. 
As  he  approached  Lord  George's  door,  he  cleared  his 
throat  and  hummed  more  vigorously. 

There  was  a  remarkable  contrast  between  this 
man's  occupation  at  the  moment,  and  the  expression 
of  his  countenance,  which  was  singularly  repulsive 
and  malicious.  His  beetling  brow  almost  obscured 
his  eyes ;  his  lip  was  curled  contemptuously ;  his 
very  shoulders  seemed  to  sneer  in  stealthy  whisper- 
ings with  his  great  flapped  ears. 

"  Hush  ! "  he  muttered  softly,  as  he  peeped  in  at 
the  chamber  door.  "  He  seems  to  be  asleep.  Pray 
Heaven  he  is !  Too  much  watching,  too  much  care, 
too  much  thought  —  ah !  Lord  preserve  him  for  a 
martyr!  He  is  a  saint,  if  ever  saint  drew  breath  on 
this  bad  earth." 

Placing  his  light  upon  a  table,  he  walked  on  tip- 
toe to  the  lire,  and  sitting  in  a  chair  before  it  with 
his  back  towards  the  bed,  went  on  communing  with 
himself  like  one  who  thought  aloud  :  — 

"  The  savior  of  his  country  and  his  country's  reli- 
gion, the  friend  of  his  poor  countrymen,  the  enemy 
410 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  411 

of  the  proud  and  harsh;  beloved  of  the  rejected  and 
oppressed,  adored  by  forty  thousand  bold  and  loyal 
English  hearts  —  what  happy  slumbers  his  should 
be  !  "  And  here  he  sighed,  and  warmed  his  hands, 
and  shook  his  head  as  men  do  when  their  hearts  are 
full,  and  heaved  another  sigh,  and  warmed  his  hands 
again. 

"  Why,  Gashford  ?  "  said  Lord  George,  who  was 
lying  broad  awake  upon  his  side,  and  had  been  star- 
ing at  him  from  his  entrance. 

"  My  —  my  lord,"  said  Gashford,  starting  and 
looking  round  as  though  in  great  surprise.  "I 
have  disturbed  you !  " 

"  I  have  not  been  sleeping." 

"  Not  sleeping  ! "  he  repeated  with  assumed  con- 
fusion. "  What  can  I  say  for  having  in  your  pres- 
ence given  utterance  to  thoughts  —  but  they  were 
sincere  —  they  were  sincere  ! "  exclaimed  the  secre- 
tary, drawing  his  sleeve  in  a  hasty  way  across  his 
eyes,  "  and  why  should  I  regret  your  having  heard 
them  ?  " 

"  Gashford,"  said  the  poor  lord,  stretching  out  his 
hand  with  manifest  emotion,  "  do  not  regret  it.  You 
love  me  well,  I  know  —  too  well.  I  don't  deserve 
such  homage." 

Gashford  made  no  reply,  but  grasped  the  hand 
and  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  Then  rising,  and  taking 
from  the  trunk  a  little  desk,  he  placed  it  on  a  table 
near  the  fire,  unlocked  it  with  a  key  he  carried  in 
his  pocket,  sat  down  before  it,  took  out  a  pen,  and, 
before  dipping  it  in  the  inkstand,  sucked  it  —  to 
compose  the  fashion  of  his  mouth  perhaps,  on  which 
a  smile  was  hovering  yet. 

"  How  do  our  numbers  stand  since  last  enrolling 


412  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

night?"  inquired  Lord  George.  "Are  we  really 
forty  thousand  strong,  or  do  we  still  speak  in 
round  numbers  when  we  take  the  Association  at 
that  amount  ?  " 

"Our  total  now  exceeds  that  number  by  a  score 
and  three,"  Gashford  replied,  casting  his  eyes  upon 
his  papers. 

"  The  funds  ?  " 

"Not  very  improving;  but  there  is  some  manna 
in  the  wilderness,  my  lord.  Hem !  On  Friday 
night  the  widows'  mites  dropped  in.  '  Forty  scav- 
engers, three  and  fourpence.  An  aged  pew-opener 
of  St.  Martin's  parish,  sixpence.  A  bell-ringer  of 
the  Established  Church,  sixpence.  A  Protestant 
infant,  newly  born,  one  halfpenny.  The  United 
Link  Boys,  three  shillings  —  one  bad.  The  anti- 
Popish  prisoners  in  Newgate,  five  and  fourpence. 
A  friend  in  Bedlam,  half  a  crown.  Dennis  the 
hangman,  one  shilling.'" 

"  That  Dennis,"  said  his  lordship,  "  is  an  earnest 
man.  I  marked  him  in  the  crowd  in  Welbeck  Street 
last  Friday." 

"A good  man,"  rejoined  the  secretary;  "a  stanch, 
sincere,  and  truly  zealous  man." 

"He  should  be  encouraged,"  said  Lord  George. 
"Make  a  note  of  Dennis.     I'll  talk  with  him." 

Gashford  obeyed,  and  went  on  reading  from  his 
list:  — 

" '  The  Friends  of  Reason,  half  a  guinea.  The 
Friends  of  Liberty,  half  a  guinea.  The  Friends  of 
Peace,  half  a  guinea.  The  Friends  of  Charity,  half 
a  guinea.  The  Friends  of  Mercy,  half  a  guinea. 
The  Associated  Rememberers  of  Bloody  Mary,  half 
a  guinea.     The  United  Bulldogs,  half  a  guinea.' " 


BARNABY   BUDGE.  413 

"  The  United  Bulldogs,"  said  Lord  George,  biting 
his  nails  most  horribly,  "  are  a  new  society,  are  they 
not  ?  " 

"  Formerly  the  'Prentice  Knights,  my  lord.  The 
indentures  of  the  old  members  expiring  by  degrees, 
they  changed  their  name,  it  seems,  though  they  still 
have  'pi-entices  among  them,  as  well  as  workmen." 

"  What  is  their  president's  name  ?  "  inquired  Lord 
George. 

"  President,"  said  Gashford,  reading,  "  Mr.  Simon 
Tappertit." 

"  I  remember  him.  The  little  man,  who  some- 
times brings  an  elderly  sister  to  our  meetings,  and 
sometimes  another  female  too,  who  is  conscientious, 
I  have  no  doubt,  but  not  well-favored  ?  " 

"The  very  same,  my  lord." 

"  Tappertit  is  an  earnest  man,"  said  Lord  George 
thoughtfully.     "  Eh,  Gashford  ?  " 

'*  One  of  the  most  foremost  among  them  all,  my 
lord.  He  snuffs  the  battle  from  afar,  like  the  war- 
horse.  He  throws  his  hat  up  in  the  street  as  if  he 
were  inspired,  and  makes  most  stirring  speeches 
from  the  shoulders  of  his  friends." 

"  Make  a  note  of  Tappertit,"  said  Lord  George 
Gordon.  "We  may  advance  him  to  a  place  of 
trust." 

"That,"  rejoined  the  secretary,  doing  as  he  was 
told,  "is  all  —  except  Mrs.  Varden's  box  (fourteenth 
time  of  opening),  seven  shillings  and  sixpence  in 
silver  and  copper,  and  half  a  guinea  in  gold ;  and 
Miggs  (being  the  saving  of  a  quarter's  wages),  one 
and  threepence." 

"  Miggs,"  said  Lord  George.     "  Is  that  a  man  ?  " 

"  The  name  is  entered  on  the  list  as  a  woman," 


414  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

replied  the  secretary.  ''  I  think  she  is  the  tall 
spare  female  of  whom  you  spoke  just  now,  my  lord, 
as  not  being  well-favored,  who  sometimes  comes  to 
hear  the  speeches  —  along  with  Tappertit  and  Mrs. 
Varden." 

"  Mrs.  Varden  is  the  elderly  lady,  then,  is  she  ?  " 

The  secretary  nodded,  and  ru])bed  the  bridge  of 
his  nose  with  the  feather  of  his  pen. 

"  She  is  a  zealous  sister,"  said  Lord  George. 
"Her  collection  goes  on  prosperously,  and  is  piir- 
sued  with  fervor.     Has  her  husband  joined  ?" 

"  A  malignant,"  returned  the  secretary,  folding 
up  his  papers.  "  Unworthy  such  a  wife.  He  re- 
mains in  outer  darkness,  and  steadily  refuses." 

"  The  consequences  be  upon  his  own  head  !  —  Gash- 
ford  !  " 

"My  lord!" 

"You  don't  think,"  he  turned  restlessly  in  his 
bed  as  he  spoke,  "  these  people  will  desert  me  when 
the  hour  arrives  ?  I  have  spoken  boldly  for  them, 
ventured  much,  suppressed  nothing.  They'll  not 
fall  off,  will  they  ?  " 

"No  fear  of  that,  my  lord,"  said  Gashford  with  a 
meaning  look,  which  was  rather  the  involuntary  ex- 
pression of  his  own  thoughts  than  intended  as  any 
confirmation  of  his  words,  for  the  other's  face  was 
turned  away.     "  Be  siire  there  is  no  fear  of  that." 

"  Nor,"  he  said  with  a  more  restless  motion  than 
before,  "  of  their  —  But  they  can  siistain  no  harm 
from  leaguing  for  this  purpose.  Right  is  on  our 
side,  though  Might  may  be  against  us.  You  feel  as 
sure  of  that  as  I — honestly,  you  do  ?  " 

The  secretary  was  beginning  with  "You  do  not 
doubt,"  when  the  other  interrupted  him,  and  impa- 
tiently rejoined, — 


BARNABY   RtJDGE.  415 

"  Doubt !  No.  Who  says  I  doubt  ?  If  I 
doubted,  should  I  cast  away  relatives,  friends, 
everything,  for  this  unhappy  country's  sake  ;  this 
unhappy  country,"  he  cried,  springing  up  in  bed, 
after  repeating  the  phrase  "unhappy  country's 
sake  "  to  himself  at  least  a  dozen  times,  "  forsaken 
of  God  and  man,  delivered  over  to  a  dangerous  con- 
federacy of  Popish  powers  ;  the  prey  of  corruption, 
idolatry,  and  despotism  ?  Who  says  I  doubt  ?  Am 
I  called,  and  chosen,  and  faithful  ?  Tell  me.  Am 
I,  or  am  I  not  ?  " 

"To  God,  the  country,  and  yourself,"  cried  Gash- 
ford. 

"I  am.  I  will  be.  I  say  again,  I  will  be  :  to  the 
block.  Who  says  as  much  ?  Do  you  ?  Does  any 
man  alive  ?  " 

The  secretary  dropped  his  head  with  an  expres- 
sion of  perfect  acquiescence  in  anything  that  had 
been  said  or  might  be ;  and  Lord  George,  gradually 
sinking  down  upon  his  pillow,  fell  asleep. 

Although  there  was  something  very  ludicrous  in 
his  vehement  manner,  taken  in  conjunction  with 
his  meagre  aspect  and  ungraceful  presence,  it  would 
scarcely  have  provoked  a  smile  in  any  man  of 
kindly  feeling;  or  even  if  it  had,  he  would  have 
felt  sorry  and  almost  angry  with  himself  next  mo- 
ment, for  yielding  to  the  impulse.  This  lord  was 
sincere  in  his  violence  and  in  his  wavering.  A 
nature  prone  to  false  enthusiasm,  and  the  vanity  of 
being  a  leader,  were  the  worst  qualities  apparent  in 
his  composition.  All  the  rest  was  weakness  —  sheer 
weakness ;  and  it  is  the  unhappy  lot  of  thoroughly 
weak  men,  that  their  very  sympathies,  affections, 
confidences  —  all  the  qualities  which  in  better-con- 


416  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

stitutecl  minds  are  virtues  —  dwindle  into  foibles,  or 
turn  into  downright  vices. 

Gashford,  with  many  a  sly  look  towards  the  bed, 
sat  chuckling  at  his  master's  folly,  until  his  deep 
and  heavy  breathing  warned  him  that  he  might 
retire.  Locking  his  desk,  and  replacing  it  within 
the  trunk  (but  not  before  he  had  taken  from  a  secret 
lining  two  printed  handbills),  he  cautiously  with- 
drew ;  looking  back  as  he  went,  at  the  pale  face  of 
the  slumbering  man,  above  whose  head  the  dusty 
plumes  that  crowned  the  Maypole  couch  waved 
drearily  and  sadly  as  though  it  were  a  bier. 

Stopping  on  the  staircase  to  listen  that  all  was  quiet, 
and  to  take  off  his  shoes  lest  his  footsteps  should 
alarm  any  light  sleeper  who  might  be  near  at  hand, 
he  descended  to  the  ground-floor,  and  thrust  one  of 
his  bills  beneath  the  great  door  of  the  house.  That 
done,  he  crept  softly  back  to  his  own  chamber, 
and  from  the  window  let  another  fall  —  carefully 
wrapped  round  a  stone  to  save  it  from  the  wind  — 
into  the  yard  below. 

They  were  addressed  on  the  back  "  To  every  Prot- 
estant into  whose  hands  this  shall  come,"  and  bore 
within  what  follows  :  — 

"Men  and  Brethren.  Whoever  shall  find  this 
letter,  will  take  it  as  a  warning  to  join,  without 
delay,  the  friends  of  Lord  George  Gordon.  There 
are  great  events  at  hand ;  and  the  times  are  danger- 
ous and  troubled.  Read  this  carefully,  keep  it 
clean,  and  drop  it  somewhere  else.  For  King  and 
Country.     Union." 

"More  seed,  more  seed,"  said  Gashford  as  he 
closed  the  window,  "  When  will  the  harvest 
come  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

To  surroiinfl  anything,  however  monstrous  or 
ridiculous,  with  an  air  of  mystery,  is  to  invest  it 
with  a  secret  charm,  and  power  of  attraction  which 
to  the  crowd  is  irresistible.  False  priests,  false 
prophets,  false  doctors,  false  patriots,  false  prodigies 
of  every  kind,  veiling  their  proceedings  in  mystery, 
have  always  addressed  themselves  at  an  immense 
advantage  to  the  popular  credulity,  and  have  been, 
perhaps,  more  indebted  to  that  resource  in  gaining 
and  keeping  for  a  time  the  upper  hand  of  Truth 
and  Common  Sense,  than  to  any  half-dozen  items  in 
the  whole  catalogue  of  imposture.  Curiosity  is, 
and  has  been  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  a  mas- 
ter passion.  To  awaken  it,  to  gratify  it  by  slight 
degrees,  and  yet  leave  something  always  in  sus- 
pense, is  to  establish  the  surest  hold  that  can  be 
had,  in  wrong,  on  the  unthinking  portion  of  man- 
kind. 

If  a  man  had  stood  on  London  Bridge,  calling  till 
he  was  hoarse  upon  the  passers-by  to  join  with 
Lord  George  Gordon,  although  for  an  object  which 
no  man  understood,  and  which  in  that  very  incident 
had  a  charm  of  its  own,  the  probability  is  that  he 
might  have  influenced  a  score  of  people  in  a  month. 
If  all  zealous  Protestants  had  been  publicly  urged 
VOL.  I.-27.  417 


418  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

to  join  an  association  for  the  avowed  purpose  of 
singing  a  hymn  or  two  occasionally,  and  hearing 
some  indifferent  speeches  made,  and  ultimately  of 
petitioning  Parliament  not  to  pass  an  act  for  abol- 
ishing the  penal  laws  against  Eoman  Catholic 
priests,  the  penalty  of  perpetual  imprisonment  de- 
nounced against  those  who  educated  children  in 
that  persuasion,  and  the  disqualification  of  all 
members  of  the  Romish  church  to  inherit  real  prop- 
erty in  the  United  Kingdom  by  right  of  pur- 
chase or  descent,  —  matters  so  far  removed  from 
the  business  and  bosoms  of  the  mass  might  perhaps 
have  called  together  a  hundred  people.  But  when 
vague  rumors  got  abroad,  that  in  this  Protestant 
Association  a  secret  power  was  mustering  against 
the  government  for  undefined  and  mighty  purposes ; 
when  the  air  was  filled  with  whispers  of  a  confed- 
eracy among  the  Popish  powers  to  degrade  and  en- 
slave England,  establish  an  Inquisition  in  London, 
and  turn  the  pens  of  Smithfield  Market  into  stakes 
and  caldrons;  when  terrors  and  alarms  which  no 
man  understood  were  perpetually  broached,  both  in 
and  out  of  Parliament,  by  one  enthusiast  who  did 
not  understand  himself,  and  bygone  bugbears,  which 
had  lain  quietly  in  their  graves  for  centuries,  were 
raised  again  to  haunt  the  ignorant  and  credulous ; 
when  all  this  was  done,  as  it  were  in  the  dark,  and 
secret  invitations  to  join  the  Great  Protestant  Asso- 
ciation in  defence  of  religion,  life,  and  liberty,  were 
dropped  in  the  piiblic  ways,  thrust  under  the  house- 
doors,  tossed  in  at  windows,  and  pressed  into  the 
hands  of  those  who  trod  the  streets  by  night ;  when 
they  glared  from  every  wall,  and  shone  on  every 
post  and  pillar,  so  that  stocks  and  stones  appeared 


BAENABY   EITDGE.  419 

infected  with  the  common  fear,  urging  all  men  to 
join  together  blindfold  in  resistance  of  they  knew 
.not  what,  they  knew  not  why;  —  then  the  mania 
spread  indeed,  and  the  body,  still  increasing  every 
day,  grew  forty  thousand  strong. 

So  said,  at  least,  in  this  month  of  March,  1780, 
Lord  George  Gordon,  the  Association's  president. 
Whether  it  was  the  fact  or  otherwise,  few  men 
knew,  or  cared  to  ascertain.  It  had  never  made 
any  public  demonstration ;  had  scarcely  ever  been 
heard  of,  save  through  him ;  had  never  been  seen  ; 
and  was  supposed  by  many  to  be  the  mere  creature 
of  his  disordered  brain.  He  was  accustomed  to  talk 
largely  about  numbers  of  men  —  stimulated,  as  it 
was  inferred,  by  certain  successful  disturbances, 
arising  out  of  the  same  subject,  which  had  occurred 
in  Scotland  in  the  previous  year ;  was  looked  upon 
as  a  cracked-brained  member  of  the  Lower  House, 
who  attacked  all  parties  and  sided  with  none,  and 
was  very  little  regarded.  It  was  known  that  there 
was  discontent  abroad  —  there  always  is  ;  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  address  the  people  by  placard, 
speech,  and  pamphlet,  upon  other  questions ;  noth- 
ing had  come,  in  England,  of  his  past  excBtions,  and 
nothing  was  apprehended  from  his  present.  Just 
as  he  has  come  upon  the  reader,  he  had  come,  from 
time  to  time,  upon  the  public,  and  been  forgotten  in 
a  day ;  as  suddenly  as  he  appears  in  these  pages, 
after  a  blank  of  five  long  years,  did  he  and  his 
ptroceedings  begin  to  force  themselves,  about  this 
period,  upon  the  notice  of  thousands  of  people,  who 
had  mingled  m  active  life  during  the  whole  interval, 
and  who,  without  being  deaf  or  blind  to  passing 
events,  had  scarcely  ever  thought  of  him  before. 


420  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

''  My  lord,"  said  Gashford  in  liis  ear  as  he  drew 
the  curtains  of  his  bed  betimes  ;  "  my  lord  !  " 

"  Yes  —  who's  that  ?     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  The  clock  has  struck  nine,"  returned  the  secre- 
tary with  meekly  folded  hands.  "  You  have  slept 
well  ?  I  hope  you  have  slept  well  ?  If  my  prayers 
are  heard,  you  are  refreshed  indeed." 

"  To  say  the  truth,  I  have  slept  so  soundly,"  said 
Lord  George,  rubbing  his  eyes  and  looking  round 
the  room,  "  that  I  don't  remember  quite  —  What 
place  is  this  ?  " 

"  My  lord  !  "  cried  Gashford  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh  ! "  returned  his  superior.  "  Yes.  You're 
not  a  Jew,  then  ?  " 

"  A  Jew  !  "  exclaimed  the  pious  secretary,  recoil- 
ing. 

"  I  dreamed  that  we  were  Jews,  Gashford.  You 
and  I  —  both  of  us  —  Jews  with  long  beards." 

"  Heaven  forbid,  my  lord  !  We  might  as  well  be 
Papists." 

"I  suppose  we  might,"  returned  the  other 
very  quickly.  "  Eh  ?  You  really  think  so,  Gash- 
ford ?  " 

"  Surely  I  do,"  the  secretary  cried  with  looks  of 
great  surprise. 

"  Humph  !  "  he  muttered.  "  Yes,  that  seems  rear 
sonable." 

"I  hope  my  lord  —  "  the  secretary  began. 

"  Hope  !  "  he  echoed,  interrupting  him.  "  Why 
do  you  say  you  hope  ?  There's  no  harm  in  thinking 
of  such  things." 

"  Not  in  dreams,"  returned  the  secretary. 

"  In  dreams  !     No,  nor  waking  either." 

"  —  'Called,   and    chosen,    and    faithful,'"   said 


BAENABY  RUDGE.  421 

Gasliford,  taking  up  Lord  George's  watch,  which 
lay  upon  a  chair,  and  seeming  to  read  the  inscrip- 
tion on  the  seal  abstractedly. 

It  was  the  slightest  action  possible,  not  obtruded 
on  his  notice,  and  apparently  the  result  of  a  mo- 
ment's absence  of  mind,  not  worth  remark.  But 
as  the  words  were  uttered,  Lord  George,  who  had 
been  going  on  impetuously,  stopped  short,  reddened, 
and  was  silent.  Apparently  quite  unconscious  of 
this  change  in  his  demeanor,  the  wily  secretary 
stepped  a  little  apart,  under  pretence  of  pulling  up 
the  window  blind,  and  returning,  when  the  other 
had  had  time  to  recover,  said,  — 

"  The  holy  cause  goes  bravely  on,  my  lord.  I 
was  not  idle,  even  last  night.  I  dropped  two  of  the 
handbills  before  I  went  to  bed,  and  both  are  gone 
this  morning.  Nobody  in  the  house  has  mentioned 
the  circumstance  of  finding  them,  though  I  have 
been  downstairs  full  half  an  hour.  One  or  two 
recruits  will  be  their  first  fruit,  I  predict ;  and  who 
shall  say  how  many  more,  with  Heaven's  blessing 
on  your  inspired  exertions  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  famous  device  in  the  beginning,"  re- 
plied Lord  George ;  "  an  excellent  device,  and  did 
good  service  in  Scotland.  It  was  quite  worthy  of 
you.  You  remind  me  not  to  be  a  sluggard,  Gash- 
ford,  when  the  vineyard  is  menaced  with  destruc- 
tion, and  may  be  trodden  down  by  Papist  feet.  Let 
the  horses  be  saddled  in  half  an  hour.  We  must  be 
up  and  doing  !  " 

He  said  this  with  a  heightened  color,  and  in  a 
tone  of  such  enthusiasm,  that  the  secretary  deemed 
all  further  prompting  needless,  and  withdrew. 

"  —  Dreamed  he  was  a  Jew,"  he  said  thoughtfully 


422  ^  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

as  he  closed  the  bedroom  door.  "  He  may  come  to 
that  before  he  dies.  It's  like  enough.  Well !  Afcer 
a  time,  and  provided  I  lost  nothing  by  it,  I  don't  see 
why  that  religion  shouldn't  suit  me  as  well  as  any 
other.  There  are  rich  men  among  the  Jews ;  shav- 
ing is  very  troublesome ;  —  yes,  it  would  suit  me 
well  enough.  For  the  present,  though,  we  must  be 
Christian  to  the  core.  Our  prophetic  motto  will 
suit  all  creeds  in  their  turn,  that's  a  comfort." 
Reflecting  on  this  source  of  consolation,  he  reached 
the  sitting-room,  and  rang  the  bell  for  breakfast. 

Lord  George  was  quickly  dressed  (for  his  plain 
toilet  was  easily  made),  and,  as  he  was  no  less  frugal 
in  his  repasts  than  in  his  Puritan  attire,  his  share 
of  the  meal  was  soon  despatched.  The  secretary, 
however,  more  devoted  to  the  good  things  of  this 
world,  or  more  intent  on  sustaining  his  strength  and 
spirits  for  the  sake  of  the  Protestant  cause,  ate  and 
drank  to  the  last  minute,  and  required,  indeed,  some 
three  or  four  reminders  from  John  Grueby  before 
he  could  resolve  to  tear  himself  away  from  Mr. 
Willet's  plentiful  providing. 

At  length  he  came  downstairs,  wiping  his  greasy 
mouth,  and  having  paid  John  Willet's  bill,  climbed 
into  his  saddle.  Lord  George,  who  had  been  walk- 
ing up  and  down  before  the  house  talking  to  him- 
self with  earnest  gestures,  mounted  his  horse ;  and 
returning  old  John  Willet's  stately  bow,  as  well  as 
the  parting  salutation  of  a  dozen  idlers  whom  the 
rumor  of  a  live  lord  being  about  to  leave  the  May- 
pole had  gathered  round  the  porch,  they  rode  away, 
with  stout  John  Grueby  in  the  rear. 

If  Lord  George  Gordon  had  ap])eared  in  the  eyes 
of  Mr.  Willet,  overnight;  a  nobleman  of  somewhat 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  423 

quaint  and  odd  exterior,  the  impression  was  con- 
firmed this  morning,  and  increased  a  liundred-fold. 
Sitting  bolt  upright  upon  his  bony  steed,  witli  his 
long,  straight  hair  dangling  about  liis  face  and  flut- 
tering in  the  wind ;  his  limbs  all  angular  and  rigid, 
his  elbows  stuck  out  on  either  side  ungracefully, 
and  his  whole  frame  jogged  and  shaken  at  every 
motion  of  his  horse's  feet:  a  more  grotesque  or 
more  ungainly  figure  can  hardly  be  conceived.  In 
lieu  of  whip,  he  carried  in  his  hand  a  great  gold- 
headed  cane,  as  large  as  any  footman  carries  in 
these  days  ;  and  his  various  modes  of  holding  this 
unwieldy  weapon  —  now  upright  before  his  face 
like  the  sabre  of  a  horse-soldier,  now  over  his 
shoulder  like  a  musket,  now  between  his  finger  and 
thumb,  but  always  in  some  uncouth  and  awkward 
fashion  —  contributed  in  no  small  degree  to  the  ab- 
surdity of  his  appearance.  Stiff,  lank,  and  solemn, 
dressed  in  an  unusual  manner,  and  ostentatiously 
exhibiting  —  whether  by  design  or  accident  —  all 
his  peculiarities  of  carriage,  gesture,  aud  conduct ; 
all  the  qualities,  natural  and  artificial,  in  which  he 
differed  from  other  men ;  he  might  have  moved  the 
sternest  looker-on  to  laughter,  and  fully  provoked 
the  smiles  and  whispered  jests  which  greeted  his 
departure  from  the  Maypole  Inn. 

Quite  unconscious,  however,  of  the  effect  he  pro- 
duced, he  trotted  on  beside  his  secretary,  talking  to 
himself  nearly  all  the  way,  until  they  came  within 
a  mile  or  two  of  London,  when  now  and  then  some 
passenger  went  by  who  knew  him  by  sight,  and 
pointed  him  out  to  some  one  else,  and  perhaps  stood 
looking  after  him,  or  cried  in  jest  or  earnest  as  it 
might  be,  "  Hurrah,  Geordie  !     Ko  Popery  !  "     At 


424  BAKNABY  RTJDGE. 

which  he  would  gravely  pull  off  his  hat,  and  bow. 
When  they  reached  the  town  and  rode  along  the 
streets,  these  notices  became  more  frequent ;  some 
laughed,  some  hissed,  some  turned  their  heads  and 
smiled,  some  wondered  who  he  was,  some  ran  along 
the  pavement  by  his  side  and  cheered.  When  this 
happened  in  a  crash  of  carts  and  chairs  and  coaches, 
he  would  make  a  dead  stop,  and  pulling  off  his  hat, 
cry,  "  Gentlemen,  No  Popery  ! "  to  which  the  gentle- 
men would  respond  with  lusty  voices,  and  with  three 
times  three ;  and  then,  on  he  would  go  again,  with 
a  score  or  so  of  the  raggedest  following  at  his  horse's 
heels,  and  shouting  till  their  throats  were  parched. 

The  old  ladies,  too  —  there  were  a  great  many  old 
ladies  in  the  streets,  and  these  all  knew  him.  Some 
of  them  —  not  those  of  the  highest  rank,  but  such 
as  sold  fruit  from  baskets  and  carried  burdens  — 
clapped  their  shrivelled  hands,  and  raised  a  weazen, 
piping,  shrill  "  Hurrah,  my  lord  ! "  Others  waved 
their  hands  or  handkerchiefs,  or  shook  their  fans 
or  parasols,  or  threw  up  windows,  and  called  in  haste 
to  those  within  to  come  and  see.  All  these  marks 
of  popular  esteem  he  received  with  profound  gravity 
and  respect;  bowing  very  low,  and  so  frequently 
that  his  hat  was  more  off  his  head  than  on ;  and 
looking  up  at  the  houses,  as  he  passed  along,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  was  making  a  public  entry,  and 
yet  was  not  puffed  up  or  proud. 

So  they  rode  (to  the  deep  and  unspeakable  disgust 
of  John  Grueby)  the  whole  length  of  Wliitechapel, 
Leadenhall  Street,  and  Cheapside,  and  into  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard.  '  Arriving  close  to  the  cathedral,  he 
halted  ;  spoke  to  Gashford ;  and  looking  upward  at 
its  lofty   dome,  shook  his  head  as  though  he  said, 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  425 

"The  Church  in  Danger!"  Then,  to  be  sure,  the 
bystanders  stretched  their  throats  indeed ;  and  he 
went  on  again  with  mighty  acclamations  from  the 
mob,  and  lower  bows  than  ever. 

So  along  the  Strand,  up  Swallow  Street,  into  the 
Oxford  Road,  and  thence  to  his  house  in  Welbeck 
Street,  near  Cavendish  Square,  whither  he  was 
attended  by  a  few  dozen  idlers ;  of  whom  he  took 
leave  on  the  steps  with  this  brief  parting,  "  Gen- 
tlemen, No  Popery.  Good-day.  God  bless  you." 
This,  being  a  rather  shorter  address  than  they 
expected,  was  received  with  some  displeasure,  and 
cries  of  "  A  speech  !  a  speech  !  "  which  might  have 
been  complied  with,  but  that  John  Grueby,  making 
a  mad  charge  upon  them  with  all  three  horses,  on  his 
way  to  the  stables,  caused  them  to  disperse  into  the 
adjoining  fields,  where  they  presently  fell  to  pitch- 
and-toss,  chuck-farthing,  odd-or-even,  dog-fighting, 
and  other  Protestant  recreations. 

In  the  afternoon  Lord  George  came  forth  again, 
dressed  in  a  black  velvet  coat,  and  trousers  and 
waistcoat  of  the  Gordon  plaid,  all  of  the  same 
Quaker  cut ;  and  in  this  costume,  which  made  him 
look  a  dozen  times  more  strange  and  singular  than 
before,  went  down  on  foot  to  Westminster.  Gash- 
ford,  meanwhile,  bestirred  himself  in  business 
matters ;  with  which  he  Avas  still  engaged  when, 
shortly  after  dusk,  John  Grueby  entered  and  an- 
nounced a  visitor. 

"  Let  him  come  in,"  said  Gashford. 

"  Here  !  come  in  !  "  growled  John  to  somebody 
without.     "  You're  a  Protestant,  ain't  you  ?  " 

''  /  should  think  so,"  replied  a  deep,  gruff  voice. 

"  You've  the  looks  of  it,"  said  John  Grueby.    "  I'd 


426  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

have  known  you  for  one  anywhere."  With  which 
remark  he  gave  the  visitor  admission,  retired,  and 
shut  the  door. 

The  man  who  now  confronted  Gashford  was  a 
squat,  thick-set  personage,  with  a  low  retreating 
forehead,  a  coarse  shock  head  of  hair,  and  eyes  so 
small  and  near  together,  that  his  broken  nose  alone 
seemed  to  prevent  their  meeting  and  fusing  into  one 
of  the  usual  size.  A  dingy  handkerchief,  twisted 
like  a  cord  about  his  neck,  left  its  great  veins 
exposed  to  view,  and  they  were  swollen  and  starting, 
as  though  with  gulping  down  strong  passions,  mal- 
ice, and  ill  will.  His  dress  was  of  threadbare  vel- 
veteen—  a  faded,  rusty,  whitened  black,  like  the 
ashes  of  a  pipe  or  a  coal  fire  after  a  day's  extinction ; 
discolored  with  the  soils  of  many  a  stale  debauch, 
and  reeking  yet  with  pot-house  odors.  In  lieu  of 
buckles  at  his  knees,  he  wore  unequal  loops  of  pack- 
thread ;  and  in  his  grimy  hands  he  held  a  knotted 
stick,  the  knob  of  which  was  carved  into  a  rough 
likeness  of  his  own  vile  face.  Such  was  the  visitor 
who  doffed  his  three-cornered  hat  in  Gashford's 
presence,  and  waited,  leering,  for  his  notice. 

"Ah!  Dennis!"  cried  the  secretar}^  "Sit 
down." 

"  I  see  my  lord  down  yonder,"  cried  the  man, 
with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb  towards  the  quarter  that 
he  spoke  of,  "  and  he  says  to  me,  says  my  lord,  '  If 
you've  nothing  to  do,  Dennis,  go  up  to  my  house  and 
talk  with  Muster  Gashford.'  Of  course  I'd  nothing 
to  do,  you  know.  These  ain't  my  working  hours. 
Ha,  ha !  I  was  a  taking  the  air  when  I  see  my  lord, 
that's  what  I  was  doing.  I  takes  the  air  by  night, 
as  the  howls  does.  Muster  Gashford." 


BAHNABY  KUDGE.  427 

"And  sometimes  in  the  daytime,  eh  ?  "  said  the 
secretary  —  "  when  you  go  out  in  state,  you  know." 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  roared  the  fellow,  smiting  his  leg ; 
"for  a  gentleman  as  'ull  say  a  pleasant  thing  in  a 
pleasant  way,  give  me  Muster  Gashford  agin  all 
London  and  Westminster  !  My  lord  ain't  a  bad  'uu 
at  that,  but  he's  a  fool  to  you.  Ah,  to  be  sure,  — 
when  I  go  out  in  state." 

"And  have  your  carriage,"  said  the  secretary; 
"  and  your  chaplain,  eh  ?  and  all  the  rest  of  it  ?  " 

"  You'll  be  the  death  of  me,"  cried  Dennis  with 
another  roar,  ''you  will.  But  what's  in  the  wind 
now.  Muster  Gashford,"  he  asked  hoarsely,  "  eh  ? 
Are  we  to  be  under  orders  to  pull  down  one  of  them 
Popish  chapels  —  or  what  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  the  secretary,  suffering  the  faint- 
est smile  to  play  upon  his  face.  "  Hush  !  God 
bless  me,  Dennis  !  We  associate,  you  know,  for 
strictly  peaceable  and  lawful  purposes." 

'•'  I  know,  bless  you,"  returned  the  man,  thrusting 
his  tongue  into  his  cheek  ;  "  I  entered  a  purpose, 
didn't  I  ?  " 

"i^o  doubt,"  said  Gashford,  smiling  as  before. 
And  when  he  said  so,  Dennis  roared  again,  and 
smote  his  leg  still  harder,  and,  falling  into  fits 
of  laughter,  wiped  his  eyes  with  the  corner  of  his 
neckerchief,  and  cried,  "Muster  Gashford  agin  all 
England  hollow  ! " 

"  Lord  George  and  I  were  talking  of  you  last 
night,"  said  Gashford  after  a  pause.  "  He  says  you 
are  a  very  earnest  fellow." 

"  So  I  am,"  returned  the  hangman. 

"  And  that  you  truly  hate  the  Papists." 

"  So  I  do,"  and  he  confirmed  it  with  a  good  round 


428  BARNABY   BUDGE. 

oath,  "Lookye  here.  Muster  Gashforcl,"  said  the 
fellow,  laying  his  hat  and  stick  upon  the  floor, 
and  slowly  beating  the  palm  of  one  hand  with  the 
fingers  of  the  other.  "  Ob-serve.  I'm  a  constitu- 
tional officer  that  works  for  my  living,  and  does  my 
work  creditable.     Do  I,  or  do  I  not  ?  " 

"  Unquestionably." 

"  Very  good.  Stop  a  minute.  My  Avork  is  sound, 
Protestant,  constitutional,  English  work.  Is  it,  or 
is  it  not  ?  " 

"No  man  alive  can  doubt  it." 

"Nor  dead  neither.  Parliament  says  this  here  — 
says  Parliament,  '  If  any  man,  woman,  or  child  does 
anything  which  goes  again  a  certain  number  of  our 
acts  — '  How  many  hanging  laws  may  there  be  at 
this  present  time,  Muster  Gashford  ?     Fifty  ?  " 

"  I  don't  exactly  know  how  many,"  replied  Gash- 
ford,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  yawning ;  "  a 
great  number,  though." 

"Well;  say  fifty.  Parliament  says,  'If  any  man, 
woman,  or  child  does  anything  again  any  one  of 
them  fifty  acts,  that  man,  woman,  or  child  shall  be 
worked  off  by  Dennis.'  George  the  Third  steps  in 
when  they  number  very  strong  at  the  end  of  a  ses- 
sions, and  says,  'These  are  too  many  for  Dennis. 
I'll  have  half  for  myself,  and  Dennis  shall  have  half 
for  hmise\i ; '  and  sometimes  he  throws  me  in  one 
over  that  I  don't  expect,  as  he  did  three  years  ago, 
when  I  got  Mary  Jones,  a  young  woman  of  nineteen 
who  come  up  to  Tyburn  with  a  infant  at  her  breast, 
and  was  worked  off  for  taking  a  piece  of  cloth  off 
the  counter  of  a  shop  in  Ludgate  Hill,  and  putting 
it  down  again  when  the  shopman  see  her ;  and  who 
had  never  done  any  harm  before,  and  only  tried  to 


BAENABY   RUDGE.  429 

do  that  in  consequence  of  her  husband  having  been 
pressed  three  weeks  previous,  and  she  being  left  to 
beg,  with  two  young  children  —  as  was  proved  upon 
the  trial.  Ha,  ha!  — Well!  That  being  the  law 
and  the  practice  of  England,  is  the  glory  of  Eng- 
land, ain't  it.  Muster  Gashford  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  secretary. 

"  And  in  times  to  come,"  pursued  the  hangman, 
"if  our  grandsons  should  think  of  their  grand- 
fathers' times,  and  find  these  things  altered,  they'll 
say,  '  Those  were  days  indeed,  and  we've  been  going 
downhill  ever  since.'  —  Won't  they.  Muster  Gash- 
ford  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  they  will,"  said  the  secretary. 

"  Well,  then,  look  here,"  said  the  hangman.  "  If 
these  Papists  gets  into  power,  and  begins  to  boil 
and  roast  instead  of  hang,  Avhat  becomes  of  my 
work  ?  If  they  touch  my  work,  that's  a  part  of  so 
many  laws,  what  becomes  of  the  laws  in  general, 
what  becomes  of  the  religion,  what  becomes  of  the 
country  ?  —  Did  you  ever  go  to  church,  Muster 
Gashford  ?  " 

"  Ever !  "  repeated  the  secretary  with  some  indig- 
nation ;  "  of  course." 

"Well,"  said  the  ruffian,  "I've  been  once — twice, 
counting  the  time  I  was  christened  —  and  when  I 
heard  the  Parliament  prayed  for,  and  thought  how 
many  new  hanging  laws  they  made  every  sessions, 
I  considered  that  /  was  prayed  for.  Now  mind, 
Muster  Gashford,"  said  the  fellow,  taking  up  his 
stick  and  shaking  it  with  a  ferocious  air,  "  I  mustn't 
have  my  Protestant  work  touched,  nor  this  here 
Protestant  state  of  things  altered  in  no  degree,  if 
I  can  help  it ;  I  mustn't  have  no  Papists  interfering 


430  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

with  me,  unless  they  come  to  me  to  be  -worked  off 
in  course  of  law ;  I  mustn't  have  no  biling,  no  roast- 
ing, no  frying  —  nothing  hut  hanging.  My  lord  ma}" 
well  call  me  an  earnest  fellow.  In  support  of  the 
great  Protestant  principle  of  having  plenty  of  that, 
I'll,"  and  here  he  beat  his  club  upon  the  ground, 
"  burn,  fight,  kill  —  do  anything  you  bid  me,  so  that 
it's  bold  and  devilish  —  though  the  end  of  it  was, 
that  I  got  hung  myself.  —  There,  INIuster  Gashf ord ! " 

He  appropriately  followed  up  this  frequent  pros- 
titution of  a  noble  word  to  the  vilest  purposes  by 
pouring  out,  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy,  at  least  a  score  of 
most  tremendous  oaths  ;  then  wiped  his  heated  face 
upon  his  neckerchief,  and  cried,  "  No  Popery  !  I'm 
a  religious  man,  by  G — !  " 

Gashford  had  leant  back  in  his  chair,  regarding 
him  with  eyes  so  sunken,  and  so  shadowed  by  his 
heavy  brows,  that,  for  aught  the  hangm.an  saw  of 
them,  he  might  have  been  stone  blind.  He  re- 
mained smiling  in  silence  for  a  short  time  longer, 
and  then  said,  slowly  and  distinctly,  — 

"You  are  indeed  an  earnest  fellow,  Dennis  —  a 
most  valuable  fellow  —  the  stanchest  man  I  know 
of  in  our  ranks.  But  you  must  calm  yourself;  you 
must  be  peaceful,  lawful,  mild  as  any  lamb.  I  am 
sure  you  will  be,  though." 

"  Ay,  ay,  we  shall  see,  Muster  Gashford,  we  shall 
see.  You  won't  have  to  complain  of  me,"  returned 
the  other,  shaking  his  head. 

'/I  am  sure  I  shall  not,"  said  the  secretary  in  the 
same  mild  tone,  and  with  the  same  emphasis.  "We 
shall  have,  we  think,  about  next  month  or  May, 
when  this  Papist  Relief  Bill  comes  before  the  House, 
to  convene  our  whole  body  for  the  first  time.     My 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  431 

lord  has  thoughts  of  our  walking  in  procession 
through  the  streets  —  just  as  an  innocent  display 
of  strength  —  and  accompanying  our  petition  down 
to  the  door  of  the  House  of  Commons." 

"  The  sooner  the  better,"  said  Dennis  with  another 
oath. 

"  We  shall  have  to  draw  up  in  divisions,  our  num- 
bers being  so  large ;  and  I  believe  I  may  venture  to 
say,"  resumed  Gashford,  affecting  not  to  hear  the 
interruption,  "though  I  have  no  direct  instructions 
to  that  effect  —  that  Lord  George  has  thought  of 
you  as  an  excellent  leader  for  one  of  these  parties. 
I  have  no  doubt  you  would  be  an  admirable  one," 

"  Try  me,"  said  the  fellow  with  an  ugly  wink. 

"  You  would  be  cool,  I  know,"  pursued  the  secre- 
tary, still  smiling,  and  still  managing  his  eyes  so 
that  he  could  watch  him  closely,  and  really  not  be 
seen  in  turn,  "obedient  to  orders,  and  perfectly 
temperate.  You  would  lead  your  party  into  no 
danger  I  am  certain." 

"I'd  lead  them,  Muster  Gashford  — "  the  hang- 
man was  beginning  in  a  reckless  way,  when  Gash- 
ford started  forward,  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips,  and 
feigned  to  write,  just  as  the  door  was  opeued  by 
John  Grueby. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  John,  looking  in ;  "  here's  another 
Protestant." 

"  Some  other  room,  John,"  cried  Gashford  in  his 
blandest  voice.     "I  am  engaged  just  now." 

But  John  had  brought  this  new  visitor  to  the 
door,  and  he  walked  in  unbidden  as  the  words  were 
uttered ;  giving  to  view  the  form  and  features,  rough 
attire,  and  reckless  air  of  Hugh. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

The  secretary  put  his  haud  before  his  eyes  to 
shade  them  from  the  glare  of  the  lamp,  and  for 
some  moments  looked  at  Hugh  with  a  frowning 
brow,  as  if  he  remembered  to  have  seen  him  lately, 
but  could  not  call  to  mind  where,  or  on  what  occa- 
sion. His  uncertainty  was  very  brief,  for  before 
Hugh  had  spoken  a  word,  he  said,  as  his  counte- 
nance  cleared  up,  — 

"  Ay,  ay,  I  recollect.  It's  quite  right,  John,  you 
needn't  wait.     Don't  go,  Dennis." 

"  Your  servant,  master,"  said  Hugh  as  Grueby 
disappeared. 

"Yours,  friend,"  returned  the  secretary  in  his 
smoothest  manner.  "  What  brings  you  here  ?  We 
left  nothing  behind  us,  I  hope  ?  " 

Hugh  gave  a  short  laugh,  and  thrusting  his  hand 
into  his  breast,  produced  one  of  the  handbills,  soiled 
and  dirty  from  lying  out  of  doors  all  night,  which 
he  laid  upon  the  secretary's  desk  after  flattening  it 
upon  his  knee,  and  smoothing  out  the  wrinkles  with 
his  heavy  palm. 

"Nothing  but  that,  master.  It  fell  into  good 
hands,  you  see." 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  said  Gashford,  turning  it  over 
with  an  air  of  perfectly  natural  surprise.  "  Where 
432 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  433 

did  you  get  it  from,  my  good  fellow  ;  what  does  it 
mean  ?     I  don't  understand  this  at  all." 

A  little  disconcerted  by  this  reception,  Hugh 
looked  from  the  secretary  to  Dennis,  who  had  risen 
and  was  standing  at  the  table  too,  observing  the 
stranger  by  stealth,  and  seeming  to  derive  the  ut- 
most satisfaction  from  his  manners  and  appearance. 
Considering  himself  silently  appealed  to  by  this 
action,  Mr.  Dennis  shook  his  head  thrice,  as  if  to 
say  of  Gashford,  "  No.  He  don't  know  anything  at 
all  about  it.  I  know  he  don't.  I'll  take  my  oath 
he  don't , "  and  hiding  his  profile  from  Hugh  with 
one  long  end  of  his  frowzy  neckerchief,  nodded  and 
chuckled  behind  this  screen  in  extreme  approval  of 
the  secretary's  proceedings. 

"  It  tells  the  man  that  finds  it  to  come  here,  don't 
it  ?  "  asked  Hugh.  "  I'm  no  scholar  myself,  but  I 
showed  it  to  a  friend,  and  he  said  it  did." 

"  It  certainly  does,"  said  Gashford,  opening  his 
eyes  to  their  utmost  width  ;  "  really  this  is  the  most 
remarkable  circumstance  I  have  ever  known.  How 
did  you  come  by  this  piece  of  paper,  my  good 
friend  ?  " 

"  Muster  Gashford,"  wheezed  the  hangman  under 
his  breath,  "  agin  all  Newgate  ! " 

Whether  Hugh  heard  him,  or  saw  by  his  manner 
that  he  was  being  played  upon,  or  perceived  the 
secretary's  drift  of  himself,  he  came  in  his  blunt 
way  to  the  point  at  once. 

*'  Here !  "  he  said,  stretching  out  his  hand  and 
taking  it  back ;  "  never  mind  the  bill,  or  Avhat  it 
says,  or  what  it  don't  say.  You  don't  know  any- 
thing about  it,  master,  —  no  more  do  I,  —  no  more 
does  he,"  glancing  at  Dennis.     "None  of  us  know 

VOL.  I.-28. 


434  BARNABY  RTJDGE. 

what  it  means,  or  where  it  comes  from  ;  there's  an 
end  of  that.  Now  I  want  to  make  one  against  the 
Catholics.  I'm  a  No-Popery  man,  and  ready  to  be 
sworn  in.     That's  what  I've  come  here  for." 

"Put  him  down  on  the  roll,  Muster  Gashford," 
said  Dennis  approvingly.  "  That's  the  way  to  go  to 
work  —  right  to  the  end  at  once,  and  no  palaver." 

"What's  the  use  of  shooting  wide  of  the  mark, 
eh,  old  boy  ?  "  cried  Hugh. 

"  My  sentiments  all  over ! "  rejoined  the  hangman. 
"This  is  the  sort  of  chap  for  my  division.  Muster 
Gashford.  Down  with  him,  sir.  Put  him  on  the 
roll.  I'd  stand  godfather  to  him,  if  he  was  to  be 
christened  in  a  bonfire  made  of  the  ruins  of  the  Bank 
of  England." 

With  these  and  other  expressions  of  confidence  of 
the  like  flattering  kind,  Mr.  Dennis  gave  him  a 
hearty  slap  on  the  back,  which  Hugh  was  not  slow 
to  return. 

"No  Popery,  brother  !  "  cried  the  hangman. 

"  No  Property,  brother !  "  responded  Hugh. 

"Popery,  Popery,"  said  the  secretary  with  his 
usual  mildness. 

"It's  all  the  same,"  cried  Dennis.  "It's  all 
right.  Down  with  him.  Muster  Gashford.  Down 
with  everybody,  down  with  everything!  Hurrah 
for  the  Protestant  religion !  That's  the  time  of  day, 
Muster  Gashford  ! " 

The  secretary  regarded  them  both  with  a  very 
favorable  expression  of  countenance,  while  they 
gave  loose  to  these  and  other  demonstrations  of 
their  patriotic  purpose ;  and  was  about  to  make 
some  remark  aloud,  when  Dennis,  stepping  up  to 
him,  and  shading  his  mouth  with  his  hand,  said,  in 


BAENABY   BUDGE.  435 

a  hoarse  whisper,  as  he  nudged  him  with  his 
elbow,  — 

"  Don't  split  upon  a  constitutional  officer's  pro- 
fession. Muster  Gashford.  There  are  popular  pre- 
judices, you  know,  and  he  mightn't  like  it.  Wait 
till  he  comes  to  be  more  intimate  with  me.  He's  a 
fine-built  chap,  ain't  he  ?  " 

"  A  powerful  fellow  indeed  !  " 

"Did  you  ever,  Muster  Gashford,"  whispered 
Dennis  with  a  horrible  kind  of  admiration,  such  as 
that  with  which  a  cannibal  might  regard  his  inti- 
mate friend  when  hungry,  —  "did  you  ever"  —  and 
here  he  drew  still  closer  to  his  ear,  and  fenced  his 
mouth  with  both  his  open  hands  — "  see  such  a 
throat  as  his  ?  Do  but  cast  your  eye  upon  it. 
There's  a  neck  for  stretching,  Muster  Gashford ! " 

The  secretary  assented  to  this  proposition  with 
the  best  grace  he  could  assume  —  it  is  difficult  to 
feign  a  true  professional  relish  :  which  is  eccentric 
sometimes  —  and  after  asking  the  candidate  a  few 
unimportant  questions,  proceeded  to  enroll  him  a 
member  of  the  Great  Protestant  Association  of  Eng- 
land. If  anything  could  have  exceeded  Mr.  Dennis's 
joy  on  the  happy  conclusion  of  this  ceremony,  it 
would  have  been  the  rapture  with  which  he  received 
the  announcement  that  the  new  member  could 
neither  read  nor  write ;  those  two  arts  being  (as 
Mr.  Dennis  swore)  the  greatest  possible  curse  a  civ- 
ilized community  could  know,  and  militating  more 
against  the  professional  emoluments  and  usefulness 
of  the  great  constitutional  office  he  had  the  honor  to 
hold,  than  any  adverse  circumstances  that  could 
present  themselves  to  his  imagination. 

The  enrolment  being  completed,  and  Hugh  having 


436  BAENABY   RUDGE. 

been  informed  by  Gashford,  in  his  peculiar  manner, 
of  the  peaceful  and  strictly  lawful  objects  contem- 
plated by  the  body  to  which  he  now  belonged  — 
during  which  recital  Mr.  Dennis  nudged  him  very 
much  with  his  elbow,  and  made  divers  remarkable 
faces  —  the  secretary  gave  them  both  to  understand 
that  he  desired  to  be  alone.  Therefore  they  took 
their  leaves  without  delay,  and  came  out  of  the 
house  together. 

*'  Are  you  walking,  brother  ?  "  said  Dennis. 

"  Ay  ! "  returned  Hugh.     '•  Where  you  will." 

"  That's  social,"  said  his  new  friend.  "  Which  way 
shall  we  take  ?  Shall  we  go  and  have  a  look  at 
doors  that  we  shall  make  a  pretty  good  clattering  at 
before  long  —  eh,  brother  ?  " 

Hugh  answering  in  the  affirmative,  they  went 
slowly  down  to  Westminster,  where  both  Houses  of 
Parliament  were  then  sitting.  Mingling  in  the 
crowd  of  carriages,  horses,  servants,  chairmen,  link- 
boys,  porters,  and  idlers  of  all  kinds,  they  lounged 
about ;  while  Hugh's  new  friend  pointed  out  to  him 
significantly  the  weak  parts  of  the  building,  how 
easy  it  was  to  get  into  the  lobby,  and  so  to  the  very 
door  of  the  House  of  Commons  ;  and  how  plainly, 
when  they  marched  down  there  in  grand  array, 
their  roars  and  shouts  would  be  heard  by  the  mem- 
bers inside;  with  a  great  deal  more  to  the  same 
purpose,  all  of  which  Hugh  received  with  manifest 
delight. 

He  told  him,  too,  who  some  of  the  Lords  and 
Commons  were,  by  name,  as  they  came  in  and  out ; 
whether  they  were  friendly  to  the  Papists  or  other- 
wise ;  and  bade  him  take  notice  of  their  liveries  and 
equipages,  that  he  might  be  sure  of  them  in  case  of 


BAENABY  BUDGE.  437 

need.  Sometimes  he  drew  him  close  to  the  windows 
of  a  passing  carnage,  that  he  might  see  its  master's 
face  by  the  light  of  the  lamps  ;  and,  both  m  respect 
of  people  and  localities,  he  showed  so  much  acquaint- 
ance with  everything  around,  that  it  was  plain  he 
had  often  studied  there  before  ;  as  indeed,  when  they 
grew  a  little  more  confidential,  he  confessed  he  had. 

Perhaps  the  most  striking  part  of  all  this  was,  the 
number  of  people  —  never  in  groups  of  more  than 
two  or  three  together  —  who  seemed  to  be  skulking 
about  the  crowd  for  the  same  purpose.  To  the 
greater  part  of  these,  a  slight  nod  or  a  look  from 
Hugh's  companion  was  sufficient  greeting ;  but,  now 
and  then,  some  man  would  come  and  stand  beside 
him  in  the  throng,  and,  without  turning  his  head  or 
appearing  to  communicate  with  him,  would  say  a 
word  or  two  in  a  low  voice,  which  he  would  answer 
in  the  same  cautious  manner.  Then  they  would  part 
like  strangers.  Some  of  these  men  often  re-appeared 
again  unexpectedly  in  the  crowd  close  to  Hugh,  and, 
as  they  passed  by,  pressed  his  hand,  or  looked  him 
sternly  in  the  face ;  but  they  never  spoke  to  him, 
nor  he  to  them ;  no,  not  a  word. 

It  was  remarkable,  too,  that  whenever  they  hap- 
pened to  stand  where  there  was  any  press  of  people, 
and  Hugh  chanced  to  be  looking  downward,  he  was 
sure  to  see  an  arm  stretched  out  —  under  his  own 
perhaps,  or  perhaps  across  him  —  which  thrust  some 
paper  into  the  hand  or  pocket  of  a  bystander,  and 
was  so  suddenly  withdrawn  that  it  was  impossible 
to  tell  from  whom  it  came  ;  nor  could  he  see  in  any 
face,  on  glancing  quickly  round,  the  least  confusion 
or  surprise.  They  often  trod  upon  a  paper  like  the 
one   he   carried  in  his   breast,  but  his   companion 


438  BAKNABY  RUDGB. 

wMspered  him  not  to  touch  it  or  to  take  it  up,  — 
not  even  to  look  towards  it,  — so  there  they  let  them 
lie,  and  passed  on. 

When  they  had  paraded  the  street  and  all  the 
avenues  of  the  building  in  this  manner  for  near  two 
hours,  they  turned  away,  and  his  friend  asked  him 
what  he  thought  of  what  he  had  seen,  and  whether 
he  was  prepared  for  a  good  hot  piece  of  work  if  it 
should  come  to  that.  "The  hotter  the  better,"  said 
Hugh,  "  I  am  prepared  for  anything."  —  "  So  am  I," 
said  his  friend,  "  and  so  are  many  of  us ;  "  and  they 
shook  hands  upon  it  with  a  great  oath,  and  with 
many  terrible  imprecations  on  the  Papists. 

As  they  were  thirsty  by  this  time,  Dennis  proposed 
that  they  should  repair  together  to  The  Boot,  where 
there  was  good  company  and  strong  liquor.  Hugh 
yielding  a  ready  assent,  they  bent  their  steps  that 
way  with  no  loss  of  time. 

This  Boot  was  a  lone  house  of  public  entertain- 
ment, situated  in  the  fields  at  the  back  of  the 
Foundling  Hospital;  a  very  solitary  spot  at  that 
period,  and  quite  deserted  after  dark.  The  tavern 
stood  at  some  distance  from  any  high-road,  and  was 
approachable  only  by  a  dark  and  narrow  lane  ;  so 
that  Hugh  was  much  surprised  to  find  several  peo- 
ple drinking  there,  and  great  merriment  going  on. 
He  was  still  more  surprised  to  find  among  them 
almost  every  face  that  had  caught  his  attention  in 
the  crowd;  but  his  companion  having  whispered  him, 
outside  the  door,  that  it  was  not  considered  good 
manners  at  The  Boot  to  appear  at  all  curious  about 
the  company,  he  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  made  no 
show  of  recognition. 

Before  putting  his  lips  to  the  liquor  which  was 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  439 

brought  for  them,  Dennis  drank  in  a  loud  voice  the 
health  of  Lord  George  Gordon,  President  of  the 
Great  Protestant  Association ;  which  toast  Hugh 
pledged  likewise  with  corresponding  enthusiasm. 
A  fiddler,  who  was  present,  and  who  appeared  to  act 
as  the  appointed  minstrel  of  the  company,  forthwith 
struck  up  a  Scotch  reel ;  and  that  in  tones  so 
invigorating,  that  Hugh  and  his  friend  (who  had 
both  been  drinking  before)  rose  from  their  seats  as 
by  previous  concert,  and,  to  the  great  admiration  of 
the  assembled  guests,  performed  an  extemporaneous 
No-Popery  Dance. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

The  applause  which  the  performance  of  Hugh 
and  his  new  friend  elicited  from  the  company  at 
The  Boot  had  not  yet  subsided,  and  the  two  dancers 
were  still  panting  from  their  exertions,  which  had 
been  of  a  rather  extreme  and  violent  character, 
when  the  party  was  re-enforced  by  the  arrival  of 
some  more  guests,  who,  being  a  detachment  of 
United  Bulldogs,  were  received  with  very  flattering 
marks  of  distinction  and  respect. 

The  leader  of  this  small  party  —  for,  including 
himself,  they  were  but  three  in  number  —  was  our 
old  acquaintance,  Mr.  Tappertit,  who  seemed,  physi- 
cally speaking,  to  have  grown  smaller  with  years 
(particularly  as  to  his  legs,  which  were  stupen- 
dously little),  but  who,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  in 
personal  dignity  and  self-esteem,  had  swelled  into  a 
giant.  Kor  was  it  by  any  means  difficult  for  the 
most  unobservant  person  to  detect  this  state  of  feel- 
ing in  the  quondam  'prentice,  for  it  not  only  pro- 
claimed itself  impressively  and  beyond  mistake  in 
his  majestic  walk  and  kindling  eye,  but  found  a 
striking  means  of  revelation  in  his  turned-up  nose, 
which  scouted  all  things  of  earth  with  deep  disdain, 
and  sought  communion  with  its  kindred  skies. 

Mr.  Tappertit,  as  chief  or  captain  of  the  Bulldogs, 
440 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  441 

was  attended  by  his  two  lieutenants  ;  one,  the  tall 
comrade  of  his  younger  life  ;  the  other,  a  'Prentice 
Knight  in  days  of  yore  — Mark  Gilbert,  bound  in  the 
olden  time  to  Thomas  Curzon  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 
These  gentlemen,  like  himself,  were  now  emanci- 
pated from  their  'prentice  thraldom,  and  served  as 
journeymen;  but  they  were,  in  humble  emulation 
of  his  great  example,  bold  and  daring  spirits,  and 
aspired  to  a  distinguished  state  in  great  political 
events.  Hence  their  connection  with  the  Protestant 
Association  of  England,  sanctioned  by  the  name  of 
Lord  George  Gordon  ;  and  hence  their  present  visit 
to  The  Boot. 

"  Gentlemen ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  taking  off  his 
hat  as  a  great  general  might  in  addressing  his 
troops.  "  Well  met.  My  lord  does  me  and  you  the 
honor  to  send  his  compliments  per  self." 

"  You've  seen  my  lord  too,  have  you  ? "  said 
Dennis.     "  /  see  him  this  afternoon." 

"  My  duty  called  me  to  the  Lobby  when  our  shop 
shut  up ;  and  I  saw  him  there,  sir,"  Mr.  Tappertit 
replied,  as  he  and  his  lieutenants  took  their  seats. 
''How  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  Lively,  master,  lively,"  said  the  fellow.  "  Here's 
a  new  brother,  regularly  put  down  in  black  and 
white  by  Muster  Gashford ;  a  credit  to  the  cause  ; 
one  of  the  stick-at-nothing  sort ;  one  arter  my  own 
heart.  D'ye  see  him  ?  Has  he  got  the  looks  of  a 
man  that'll  do,  do  you  think  ? "  he  cried,  as  he 
slapped  Hugh  on  the  back. 

"  Looks  or  no  looks,"  said  Hugh,  with  a  drunken 
flourish  of  his  arm,  "  I'm  the  man  you  want.  I 
hate  the  Papists,  every  one  of  'em.  They  hate 
me,  and  I  hate  them.      They  do  me  all  the  harm 


442  BABNABY  EDDGE. 

they  can,  and  I'll  do  them  all  the  harm  I  can. 
Hurrah ! " 

"Was  there  ever,"  said  Dennis,  looking  round  the 
room,  when  the  echo  of  his  boisterous  voice  had  died 
away ;  "  was  there  ever  such  a  game  boy  ?  Why,  I 
mean  to  say,  brothers,  that  if  Muster  Gashford  had 
gone  a  hundred  mile,  and  got  together  fifty  men  of 
the  common  run,  they  wouldn't  have  been  worth 
this  one." 

The  greater  part  of  the  company  implicitly  sub- 
scribed to  this  opinion,  and  testified  their  faith  in 
Hugh  by  nods  and  looks  of  great  significance.  Mr. 
Tappertit  sat  and  contemplated  him  for  a  long  time 
in  silence,  as  if  he  suspended  his  judgment;  then 
drew  a  little  nearer  to  him,  and  eyed  him  over  more 
carefully ;  then  went  close  up  to  him,  and  took  him 
apart  into  a  dark  corner. 

"  I  say,"  he  began  with  a  thoughtful  brow,  "  haven't 
I  seen  you  before  ?  " 

"It's  like  you  may,"  said  Hugh  in  his  careless 
way.     "  I  don't  know ;  shouldn't  wonder." 

"  No,  but  it's  very  easily  settled,"  returned  Sim. 
"  Look  at  me.  Did  you  ever  see  me  before  ?  You 
wouldn't  be  likely  to  forget  it,  you  know,  if  you 
ever  did.  Look  at  me.  Don't  be  afraid ;  I  won't 
do  you  any  harm.     Take  a  good  look  —  steady  now." 

The  encouraging  way  in  which  Mr.  Tappertit 
made  this  request,  and  coupled  it  with  an  assurance 
that  he  needn't  be  frightened,  amused  Hugh  mightily 
—  so  much,  indeed,  that  he  saw  nothing  at  all  of  the 
small  man  before  him,  through  closing  his  eyes  in  a 
fit  of  hearty  laughter,  which  shook  his  great  broad 
sides  until  they  ached  again. 

"  Come  ! "   said  Mr.  Tappertit,  growing  a  little 


BAKNABY   RUDGE.  443 

impatient  under  this  disrespectful  treatment.  "  Do 
you  know  me,  feller  ?  " 

"Not  I,"  cried  Hugh.  "Ha,  ha,  ha!  Not  I! 
But  I  should  like  to." 

"  And  yet  I'd  have  wagered  a  seven-shilling  piece," 
said  Mr.  Tappertit,  folding  his  arms,  and  confront- 
ing him  with  his  legs  wide  apart  and  firmly  planted 
on  the  ground,  "  that  you  once  were  hostler  at  the 
Maypole." 

Hugh  opened  his  eyes  on  hearing  this,  and  looked 
at  him  in  great  surprise. 

"  —  And  so  you  were,  too,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit, 
pushing  him  away  with  a  condescending  playful- 
ness. "  When  did  my  eyes  ever  deceive  —  unless  it 
"was  a  young  woman  ?     Don't  you  know  me  now  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  ain't  —  "  Hugh  faltered. 

"Ain't  it  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "Are  you  sure 
of  that  ?     You  remember  G.  Varden,  don't  you  ?  " 

Certainly  Hugh  did,  and  he  remembered  D.  Var- 
den too ;  but  that  he  didn't  tell  him. 

"  You  remember  coming  down  there,  before  I  was 
out  of  my  time,  to  ask  after  a  vagabond  that  had 
bolted  off,  and  left  his  disconsolate  father  a  prey  to 
the  bitterest  emotions,  and  all  the  rest  of  it  —  don't 
you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  Of  course  I  do  ! "  cried  Hugh.  "  And  I  saw  you 
there." 

"  Saw  me  there !  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit.  "  Yes,  I 
should  think  you  did  see  me  there.  The  place 
would  be  troubled  to  go  on  without  me.  Don't  you 
remember  my  thinking  you  liked  the  vagabond,  and 
on  that  account  going  to  quarrel  with  you ;  and  then, 
finding  you  detested  him  worse  than  poison,  going 
to  drink  with  you  ?     Don't  you  remember  that  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  !  "  cried  Hugh. 


444  BARNABY  KUDGE. 

"Well!  and  are  you  in  the  same  mind  now?" 
said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  Yes  ! "  roared  Hugh. 

"  You  speak  like  a  man,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  "  and 
I'll  shake  hands  with  you."  With  these  concilia- 
tory expressions  he  suited  the  action  to  the  word ; 
and  Hugh  meeting  his  advances  readily,  they  per- 
formed the  ceremony  with  a  show  of  great  hearti- 
ness. 

"  I  find,"  said  Mr,  Tappertit,  looking  round  on  the 
assembled  guests,  "  that  brother  What's-his-name 
and  I  are  old  acquaintance.  —  You  never  heard  any- 
thing more  of  that  rascal,  I  suppose,  eh  ?  " 

"Not  a  syllable,"  replied  Hugh.  "I  never  want 
to.  I  don't  believe  I  ever  shall.  He's  dead  long 
ago,  I  hope." 

"  It's  to  be  hoped,  for  the  sake  of  mankind  in 
general  and  the  happiness  of  society,  that  he  is," 
said  Mr.  Tappertit,  rubbing  his  palm  upon  his  legs, 
and  looking  at  it  between-whiles.  "  Is  your  other 
hand  at  all  cleaner  ?  Much  the  same.  Well,  I'll 
owe  you  another  shake.  We'll  suppose  it  done,  if 
you've  no  objection." 

Hugh  laughed  again,  and  with  such  thorough 
abandonment  to  his  mad  humor,  that  his  limbs 
seemed  dislocated,  and  his  whole  frame  in  danger  of 
tumbling  to  pieces  ;  but  Mr.  Tappertit,  so  far  from 
receiving  this  extreme  merriment  with  any  irrita- 
tion, was  pleased  to  regard  it  with  the  utmost  favor, 
and  even  to  join  in  it,  so  far  as  one  of  his  gravity 
and  station  could,  with  any  regard  to  that  decency 
and  decorum  which  men  in  high  places  are  expected 
to  maintain. 

Mr.  Tappertit  did  not  stop  here,  as  many  public 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  445 

characters  might  have  done,  but  calling  up  his  brace 
of  lieutenants,  introduced  Hugh  to  them  with  high 
commendation  ;  declaring  him  to  be  a  man  who,  at 
such  times  as  those  in  which  they  lived,  could  not 
be  too  much  cherished.  Further,  he  did  him  the 
honor  to  remark,  that  he  would  be  an  acquisition  of 
which  even  the  United  Bulldogs  might  be  proud; 
and  finding,  upon  sounding  him,  that  he  was  quite 
ready  and  willing  to  enter  the  society  (for  he  was 
not  at  all  particular,  and  would  have  leagued  him- 
self that  night  with  anything,  or  anybody,  for  any 
purpose  whatsoever),  caused  the  necessary  prelimi- 
naries to  be  gone  into  upon  the  spot.  This  tribute 
to  his  great  merit  delighted  no  man  more  than  Mr. 
Dennis,  as  he  himself  proclaimed  with  several  rare 
and  surprising  oaths  ;  and,  indeed,  it  gave  unmin- 
gled  satisfaction  to  the  whole  assembly. 

"  Make  anything  you  like  of  me !  "  cried  Hugh, 
flourishing  the  can  he  had  emptied  more  than  once. 
"  Put  me  on  any  duty  you  please.  I'm  your  man, 
ril  do  it.  Here's  my  captain  —  here's  my  leader. 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Let  him  give  me  the  word  of  command, 
and  I'll  fight  the  whole  Parliament  House  single- 
handed,  or  set  a  lighted  torch  to  the  King's  Throne 
itself  !  "  With  that,  he  smote  Mr.  Tappertit  on  the 
back  with  such  violence  that  his  little  body  seemed 
to  shrink  into  a  mere  nothing ;  and  roared  again 
until  the  very  foundlings  near  at  hand  were  startled 
in  their  beds. 

In  fact,  a  sense  of  something  whimsical  in  their 
companionship  seemed  to  have  taken  entire  posses- 
sion of  his  rude  brain.  The  bare  fact  of  being 
patronized  by  a  great  man  whom  he  could  have 
crushed  with  one  hand,  appeared   in  his   eyes  so 


446  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

eccentric  and  humorous,  that  a  kind  of  ferocious 
merriment  gained  the  mastery  over  him,  and  quite 
subdued  his  brutal  nature.  He  roared  and  roared 
again ;  toasted  Mr.  Tappertit  a  hundred  times ; 
declared  himself  a  Bulldog  to  the  core  ;  and  vowed 
to  be  faithful  to  him  to  the  last  drop  of  blood  in  his 
veins. 

All  these  compliments  Mr.  Tappertit  received  as 
matters  of  course  —  flattering  enough  in  their  v/ay, 
but  entirely  attributable  to  his  vast  superiority. 
His  dignified  self-possession  only  delighted  Hugh 
the  more ;  and,  in  a  word,  this  giant  and  dwarf 
struck  up  a  friendship  which  bade  fair  to  be  of  long 
continuance,  as  the  one  held  it  to  be  his  right  to 
command,  and  the  other  considered  it  an  exquisite 
pleasantry  to  obey.  Nor  was  Hugh  by  any  means  a 
passive  follower,  who  scrupled  to  act  without  pre- 
cise and  definite  orders ;  for  when  Mr.  Tappertit 
mounted  on  an  empty  cask  which  stood  by  way  of 
rostrum  in  the  room,  and  volunteered  a  speech  upon 
the  alarming  crisis  then  at  hand,  he  placed  himself 
beside  the  orator,  and  though  he  grinned  from  ear 
to  ear  at  every  word  he  said,  threw  out  such  expres- 
sive hints  to  scoffers  in  the  management  of  his 
cudgel,  that  those  who  were  at  first  the  most  dis- 
posed to  interrupt,  became  remarkably  attentive, 
and  were  the  loudest  in  their  approbation. 

It  was  not  all  noise  and  jest,  however,  at  The 
Boot,  nor  were  the  whole  party  listeners  to  the 
speech.  There  were  some  men  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room  (which  was  a  long,  low-roofed  chamber)  in 
earnest  conversation  all  the  time ;  and,  when  any  of 
this  group  went  out,  fresh  people  were  sure  to  come 
in  soon  afterwards,  and  sit  down  in  their  places,  as 


'^I>'r>1t'''^'<^^?% 


i, 


M. 


m.m.:m. 


^^^'M'k^fi 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  447 

tliougli  the  others  had  relieved  them  on  some  watch 
or  duty ;  which  it  was  pretty  clear  they  did,  for 
these  changes  took  place  by  the  clock,  at  intervals 
of  half  an  hour.  These  persons  whispered  very 
much  among  themselves,  and  kept  aloof,  and  often 
looked  round,  as  jealous  of  their  speech  being  over- 
heard ;  some  two  or  three  among  them  entered  in 
books  what  seemed  to  be  reports  from  the  others ; 
when  they  were  not  thus  employed,  one  of  them 
would  turn  to  the  newspapers  which  were  strewn 
upon  the  table,  and  from  the  St.  James's  Chronicle, 
the  Herald,  Chronicle,  or  Public  Advertiser,  would 
read  to  the  rest  in  a  low  voice  some  passage  having 
reference  to  the  topic  in  which  they  were  all  so 
deeply  interested.  But  the  great  attraction  was  a 
pamphlet  called  The  Thunderer,  which  espoused 
their  own  opinions,  and  was  supposed  at  that  time 
to  emanate  directly  from  the  Association.  This 
was  always  in  request :  and  whether  read  aloud  to 
an  eager  knot  of  listeners,  or  by  some  solitary  man, 
was  certain  to  be  followed  by  stormy  talking  and 
excited  looks. 

In  the  midst  of  all  his  merriment  and  admiration 
of  his  captain,  Hugh  was  made  sensible,  by  these 
and  other  tokens,  of  the  presence  of  an  air  of  mys- 
tery, akin  to  that  which  had  so  much  impressed  him 
out  of  doors.  It  was  impossible  to  discard  a  sense 
that  something  serious  was  going  on,  and  that, 
under  the  noisy  revel  of  the  public-house,  there 
lurked  unseen  and  dangerous  matter.  Little  af- 
fected by  this,  however,  he  was  perfectly  satisfied 
with  his  quarters,  and  would  have  remained  there 
till  morning,  but  that  his  conductor  rose  soon  after 
midnight  to  go  home  ;  Mr.  Tappertit  following  his 


448  BAENABY  RUDGE. 

example,  left  him  no  excuse  to  stay.  So  they  all 
three  left  the  house  together :  roaring  a  No-Popery 
song  until  the  fields  resounded  with  the  dismal 
noise. 

"  Cheer  up,  captain ! "  cried  Hugh,  when  they  had 
roared  themselves  out  of  breath.     "  Another  stave  ! " 

Mr.  Tappertit,  nothing  loath,  began  again;  and 
so  the  three  went  staggering  on,  arm-in-arm,  shout- 
ing like  madmen,  and  defying  the  watch  with  great 
valor.  Indeed,  this  did  not  require  any  unusual 
bravery  or  boldness,  as  the  watchmen  of  that  time, 
being  selected  for  the  office  on  account  of  excessive 
age  and  extraordinary  infirmity,  had  a  custom  of 
shutting  themselves  up  tight  in  their  boxes  on  the 
first  symptoms  of  disturbance,  and  remaining  there 
until  they  disappeared.  In  these  proceedings,  Mr. 
Dennis,  who  had  a  gruff  voice  and  lungs  of  consid- 
erable power,  distinguished  himself  very  much,  and 
acquired  great  credit  with  his  two  companions. 

"  What  a  queer  fellow  you  are  !  "  said  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit.  "  You're  so  precious  sly  and  close.  Why  don't 
you  ever  tell  what  trade  you're  of  ?  " 

"Answer  the  captain  instantly,"  cried  Hugh, 
beating  his  hat  down  on  his  head.  "  Why  don't  you 
ever  tell  what  trade  you're  of  ?  " 

"  I'm  of  as  gen-teel  a  calling,  brother,  as  any  man 
in  England  —  as  light  a  business  as  any  gentleman 
could  desire." 

"  Was  you  'prenticed  to  it  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit. 

"No.  Natural  genius,"  said  Mr.  Dennis.  "No 
'prenticing.  It  come  by  natur'.  Muster  Gashford 
knows  my  calling.  Look  at  that  hand  of  mine  — 
many  and  many  a  job  that  hand  has  done  with  a 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  449 

neatness  and  dex-terity  never  known  afore.  When 
I  look  at  that  hand,"  said  Mr.  Dennis,  shaking  it  in 
the  air,  "  and  remember  the  helegant  bits  of  work 
it  has  turned  off,  I  feel  quite  molloncholy  to  think 
it  should  ever  grow  old  and  feeble.  But  sich  is 
life ! " 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh  as  he  indulged  in  these 
reflections,  and  putting  liis  fingers  with  an  absent 
air  on  Hugh's  throat,  and  particularly  under  his  left 
ear,  as  if  he  were  studying  the  anatomical  develop- 
ment of  that  part  of  his  frame,  shook  his  head  in 
a  despondent  manner,  and  actually  shed  tears. 

"  You're  a  kind  of  artist,  I  suppose  —  eh  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Tappertit. 

"  Yes,"  rejoined  Dennis  ;  ''  yes  —  I  may  call  my- 
self a  artist  —  a  fancy  workman  —  art  improves 
natur'  —  that's  my  motto." 

"  And  what  do  you  call  this  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tapper- 
tit,  taking  his  stick  out  of  his  hand. 

"  That's  my  portrait  atop,"  Dennis  replied.  "  D'ye 
think  it's  like  ?  " 

"  Why,  it's  a  little  too  handsome,"  said  Mr.  Tap- 
pertit.    "  Who  did  it  ?     You  ?  " 

"  I ! "  repeated  Dennis,  gazing  fondly  on  his 
image.  "I  wish  I  had  the  talent.  That  was 
carved  by  a  friend  of  mine,  as  is  now  no  more. 
The  very  day  afore  he  died,  he  cut  that  with  his 
pocket-knife  from  memory  !  '  I'll  die  game,'  says 
my  friend,  '  and  my  last  moments  shall  be  dewoted 
to  making  Dennis's  picter.'     That's  it." 

"  That  was  a  queer  fancy,  wasn't  it  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Tappertit. 

"  It  ivas  a  queer  fancy,"  rejoined  the  other, 
breathing  on  his  fictitious  nose,  and  polishing  it 
VOL.  I.-29. 


450  BAKNABY   KUDGE. 

with  the  cuff  of  his  coat,  "but  he  was  a  queer  sub- 
ject altogether  —  a  kind  of  gypsy  —  one  of  the  finest, 
stand-up  men  you  ever  see.  Ah  !  He  told  me  some 
things  that  would  startle  you  a  bit,  did  that  friend 
of  mine,  on  the  morning  when  he  died." 

"  You  were  with  him  at  the  time,  were  you  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Tappertit. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  with  a  curious  look,  "I  was 
there.  Oh  yes,  certainly,  I  was  there.  He 
wouldn't  have  gone  off  half  as  comfortable  with- 
out me.  I  had  been  with  three  or  four  of  his 
family  under  the  same  circumstances.  They  were 
all  fine  fellows." 

"  They  must  have  been  fond  of  you,"  remarked 
Mr.  Tappertit,  looking  at  him  sideways. 

"  I  don't  know  that  they  was  exactly  fond  of  me," 
said  Dennis  with  a  little  hesitation,  "  but  they  all 
had  me  near  'em  when  they  departed.  I  come  in 
for  their  wardrobes  too.  This  very  handkecher  that 
you  see  round  my  neck  belonged  to  him  that  I've 
been  speaking  of  —  him  as  did  that  likeness." 

Mr.  Tappertit  glanced  at  the  article  referred  to, 
and  appeared  to  think  that  the  deceased's  ideas  of 
dress  were  of  a  peculiar  and  by  no  means  an  expen- 
sive kind.  He  made  no  remark  upon  the  point, 
however,  and  suffered  his  mysterious  companion  to 
proceed  without  interruption. 

"  These  smalls,"  said  Dennis,  rubbing  his  legs ; 
"  these  very  smalls  —  they  belonged  to  a  friend  of 
mine  that's  left  off  sich  encumbrances  forever :  this 
coat  too — I've  often  walked  behind  this  coat  in  the 
streets,  and  wondered  whether  it  would  ever  come 
to  me  :  this  pair  of  shoes  have  danced  a  hornpipe 
for  another  man,  afore  my  eyes,  full  half  a  dozen 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  451 

times  at  least :  and  as  to  my  hat,"  he  said,  taking  it 
off,  and  whirling  it  round  upon  his  fist  —  •'  Lord  ! 
I've  seen  this  hat  go  up  Holborn  on  the  box  of  a 
hackney  coach  —  ah,  many  and  many  a  day !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  their  old  wearers  are  all 
dead,  I  hope  ?  "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  falling  a  little 
distance  from  him  as  he  spoke. 

"Every  one  of  'em,"  replied  Dennis.  "Every 
man  Jack ! " 

There  was  something  so  very  ghastly  in  this  cir- 
cumstance, and  it  appeared  to  account,  in  such  a 
very  strange  and  dismal  manner,  for  his  faded  dress 
—  which,  in  this  new  aspect,  seemed  discolored  by 
the  earth  from  graves  —  that  Mr.  Tappertit  abruptly 
found  he  was  going  another  way,  and,  stopping  short, 
bade  him  good-night  with  the  utmost  heartiness. 
As  they  happened  to  be  near  the  Old  Bailey,  and 
Mr.  Dennis  knew  there  were  turnkeys  in  the  lodge 
with  whom  he  could  pass  the  night,  and  discuss 
professional  subjects  of  common  interest  among 
them  before  a  rousing  fire,  and  over  a  social  glass, 
he  separated  from  his  companions  without  any  great 
regret,  and  warmly  shaking  hands  with  Hugh,  and 
making  an  early  appointment  for  their  meeting  at 
The  Boot,  left  them  to  pursue  their  road. 

"  That's  a  strange  sort  of  man,"  said  ISfr.  Tapper- 
tit, watching  the  hackney  coachman's  hat  as  it  went 
bobbing  down  the  street.  "  I  don't  know  what  to 
make  of  him.  Why  can't  he  have  his  smalls  made 
to  order,  or  wear  live  clothes  at  any  rate  ?  " 

"  He's  a  lucky  man,  captain,"  cried  Hugh.  "  I 
should  like  to  have  such  friends  as  his." 

"  I  hope  he  don't  get  'em  to  make  their  wills,  and 
then  knock  'em  on  the  head,"  said  Mr.  Tappertit, 


452  BAENABY  EUDGE. 

musing.  "But  come.  The  United  B.'s  expect  me. 
On !  —  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"I  quite  forgot,"  said  Hugh,  who  had  started  at 
the  striking  of  a  neighboring  clock,  ''  I  have  some- 
body to  see  to-night  —  I  must  turn  back  directly. 
The  drinking  and  singing  put  it  out  of  my  head. 
It's  well  I  remembered  it !  " 

Mr.  Tappertit  looked  at  him  as  though  he  were 
about  to  give  utterance  to  some  very  majestic  senti- 
ments in  reference  to  this  act  of  desertion,  but  as  it 
was  clear  from  Hugh's  hasty  manner  that  the  en- 
gagement was  one  of  a  pressing  nature,  he  graciously 
forbore,  and  gave  him  his  permission  to  depart  im- 
mediately, which  Hugh  acknowledged  with  a  roar 
of  laughter. 

"Good-night,  captain!"  he  cried.  "I  am  yours 
to  the  death,  remember  ! " 

"  Farewell ! "  said  Mr.  Tappertit,  waving  his  hand. 
"  Be  bold  and  vigilant !  " 

"  No  Popery,  captain !  "  roared  Hugh. 

"England  in  blood  first!"  cried  his  desperate 
leader.  Whereat  Hugh  cheered  and  laughed,  and 
ran  oif  like  a  greyhound. 

"  That  man  will  prove  a  credit  to  my  corps,"  said 
Simon,  turning  thoughtfully  upon  his  heel.  "  And 
let  me  see.  In  an  altered  state  of  society  —  which 
must  ensue  if  we  break  out  and  are  victorious  — 
when  the  locksmith's  child  is  mine,  Miggs  must  be 
got  rid  of  somehow,  or  she'll  poison  the  tea-kettle 
one  evening  when  I'm  out.  He  might  marry  Miggs 
if  he  was  drunk  enough.  It  shall  be  done.  I'll 
make  a  note  of  it." 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Little  thinking  of  the  plan  for  his  happy  settle- 
ment in  life  which  had  suggested  itself  to  the  teem- 
ing brain  of  his  provident  commander,  Hugh  made 
no  pause  until  St.  Dunstan's  giants  struck  the  hour 
above  him,  when  he  worked  the  handle  of  a  pump 
which  stood  hard  by  with  great  vigor,  and  thrusting 
his  head  under  the  spout,  let  the  water  gush  upon  him 
until  a  little  stream  ran  down  from  every  uncombed 
hair,  and  he  was  Avet  to  the  waist.  Considerably 
refreshed  by  this  ablution,  both  in  mind  and  body, 
and  almost  sobered  for  the  time,  he  dried  himself  as 
he  best  could ;  then  crossed  the  road,  and  plied  the 
knocker  of  the  Middle  Temple  gate. 

The  night  porter  looked  through  a  small  grating 
in  the  portal  with  a  surly  eye,  and  cried  "  Halloa ! " 
which  greeting  Hugh  returned  in  kind,  and  bade 
him  open  quickly. 

"  We  don't  sell  beer  here,"  cried  the  man.  ''  What 
else  do  you  want  ?  " 

"To  come  in,"  Hugh  replied  with  a  kick  at  the 
door. 

"  Where  to  go  to  ?  " 

"Paper  Buildings." 

"  Whose  chambers  ?  " 

"  Sir  John  Chester's."     Each  of  which  answers  he 
emphasized  with  another  kick. 
453 


454  BAKNABY  EUDGE. 

After  a  little  growling  on  the  other  side,  the  gate 
■was  opened,  and  he  passed  in :  undergoing  a  close 
inspection  from  the  porter  as  he  did  so. 

"  You  wanting  Sir  John  at  this  time  of  night ! " 
said  the  man. 

"  Ay  ! "  said  Hugh.     "  I !     What  of  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  must  go  with  you,  and  see  that  you  do, 
for  I  don't  believe  it." 

"Come  along,  then." 

Eying  him  with  suspicious  looks,  the  man,  with 
key  and  lantern,  walked  on  at  his  side,  and  attended 
him  to  Sir  John  Chester's  door,  at  which  Hugh  gave 
one  knock,  that  echoed  through  the  dark  staircase 
like  a  ghostly  summons,  and  made  the  dull  light 
tremble  in  the  drowsy  lamp. 

"  Do  you  think  he  knows  me  now  ?  "  said  Hugh. 

Before  the  man  had  time  to  answer,  a  footstep 
was  heard  within,  a  light  appeared,  and  Sir  John,  in 
his  dressing-gown  and  slippers,  opened  the  door. 

"  I  ask  your  pardon,  Sir  John,"  said  the  porter, 
pulling  off  his  hat.  "  Here's  a  young  man  says  he 
wants  to  speak  to  you.  It's  late  for  strangers.  I 
thought  it  best  to  see  that  all  was  right." 

*'  Aha ! "  cried  Sir  John,  raising  his  eyebrows. 
''It's  you,  messenger,  is  it?  Go  in.  Quite  right, 
friend,  I  commend  your  prudence  highly.  Thank 
you.     God  bless  you.     Good-night." 

To  be  commended,  thanked,  God-blessed,  and  bade 
good-night  by  one  who  carried  "  Sir"  before  his  name, 
and  wrote  himself  M.F.  to  boot,  was  something  for 
a  porter.  He  withdrew  with  much  humility  and 
reverence.  Sir  John  followed  his  late  visitor  into 
the  dressing-room,  and  sitting  in  his  easy-chair  be- 
fore the  fire,  and  moving  it  so  that  he  could  see  hirg 


BARNABY  RTIDGE.  455 

as  he  stood,  hat  in  hand,  beside  the  door,  looked  at 
him  from  head  to  foot. 

The  old  face,  calm  and  pleasant  as  ever ;  the  com- 
plexion, quite  juvenile  in  its  bloom  and  clearness ; 
the  same  smile ;  the  wonted  precision  and  elegance 
of  dress ;  the  white,  well-ordered  teeth ;  the  delicate 
hands ;  the  composed  and  quiet  manner ;  everything 
as  it  used  to  be :  no  marks  of  age  or  passion,  envy, 
hate,  or  discontent :  all  unruffled  and  serene,  and 
quite  delightful  to  behold. 

He  wrote  himself  M.P,  —  but  how?  Why  thus. 
It  was  a  proud  family  —  more  proud,  indeed,  than 
wealthy.  He  had  stood  in  danger  of  arrest;  of 
bailiffs,  and  a  jail  —  a  vulgar  jail,  to  which  the 
common  people  with  small  incomes  went.  Gentle- 
men of  ancient  houses  have  no  privilege  of  exemp- 
tion from  such  cruel  laws  —  unless  they  are  of  one 
great  house,  and  then  they  have.  A  proud  man  of 
his  stock  and  kindred  had  the  means  of  sending  him 
there.  He  offered  —  not  indeed  to  pay  his  debts, 
but  to  let  him  sit  for  a  close  borough  until  his  own 
son  came  of  age,  which,  if  he  lived,  would  come  to 
pass  in  tv.^enty  years.  It  was  quite  as  good  as  an. 
Insolvent  Act,  and  infinitely  more  genteel.  So  Sir 
John  Chester  was  a  member  of  Parliament. 

But  how  Sir  John  ?  N"othing  so  simple,  or  so 
easy.  One  touch  with  a  sword  of  state,  and  the 
transformation  is  effected.  John  Chester,  Esquire, 
M.P.,  attended  court  —  went  up  with  an  address  — 
headed  a  deputation.  Such  elegance  of  manner,  so 
many  graces  of  deportment,  such  powers  of  conver- 
sation, could  never  pass  unnoticed.  Mr.  was  too 
common  for  such  merit.  A  man  so  gentlemanly 
should  have   been  —  but   Fortune   is   capricious  — 


456  BARNABY  RUDGE. 

born  a  Duke :  just  as  some  dukes  should  have  been 
born  laborers.  He  caught  the  fancy  of  the  king, 
knelt  down  a  grub,  and  rose  a  butterfly,  John 
Chester,  Esquire,  was  knighted,  and  became  Sir 
John. 

"  I  thought  when  you  left  me  this  evening,  my 
esteemed  acquaintance,"  said  Sir  John  after  a  pretty 
long  silence,  "  that  you  intended  to  return  with  all 
despatch  ?  " 

"  So  I  did,  master." 

"And  so  you  have  ?  "  he  retorted,  glancing  at  his 
watch.     "  Is  that  what  you  would  say  ?  " 

Instead  of  replying,  Hugh  changed  the  leg  on 
which  he  leant,  shuffled  his  cap  from  one  hand  to 
the  other,  looked  at  the  ground,  the  wall,  the  ceil- 
ing, and  finally  at  Sir  John  himself ;  before  whose 
pleasant  face  he  lowered  his  eyes  again,  and  fixed 
them  on  the  floor. 

*'  And  how  have  you  been  employing  yourself  in 
the  mean  while  ?  "  quoth  Sir  John,  lazily  crossing 
his  legs.  "  Where  have  you  been  ?  what  harm  have 
you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  No  harm  at  all,  master,"  growled  Hugh  with 
humility.     "  I  have  only  done  as  you  ordered." 

"  As  I  what  ?  "  returned  Sir  John. 

''Well  then,"  said  Hugh  uneasily,  "as  you  ad- 
vised, or  said  I  ought,  or  said  I  might,  or  said  that 
you  would  do,  if  you  were  me.  Don't  be  so  hard 
upon  me,  master." 

Something  like  an  expression  of  triumph  in  the 
perfect  control  he  had  established  over  this  rough 
instrument  appeared  in  the  knight's  face  for  an  in- 
stant ;  but  it  vanished  directly  as  he  said  —  paring 
his  nails  while  speaking, — 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  457 

"When  you  say  I  ordered  you,  my  good  fellow, 
you  imply  that  I  directed  you  to  do  something  for 
me  —  something  I  wanted  done  —  something  for  my 
own  ends  and  purposes  —  you  see  ?  Now,  I  am 
sure  I  needn't  enlarge  upon  the  extreme  absurdity 
of  such  an  idea,  however  unintentional ;  so,  please  " 
—  and  here  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  him  —  "to  be 
more  guarded.     Will  you  ?  " 

"I  meant  to  give  you  no  offence,"  said  Hugh. 
"  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  You  catch  me  up  so 
very  short." 

"  You  will  be  caught  up  much  shorter,  my  good 
friend  —  infinitely  shorter  —  one  of  these  days, 
depend  upon  it,"  replied  his  patron  calmly.  ''By 
the  by,  instead  of  wondering  why  you  have  been 
so  long,  my  wonder  should  be  why  you  came  at  all. 
Why  did  you  ?  " 

"  You  know,  master,"  said  Hugh,  "  that  I  couldn't 
read  the  bill  I  found,  and  that,  supposing  it  to  be 
something  particular  from  the  way  it  was  wrapped 
up,  I  brought  it  here." 

"  And  could  you  ask  no  one  else  to  read  it, 
Bruin  ?  "  said  Sir  John. 

"  No  one  that  I  could  trust  with  secrets,  master. 
Since  Barnaby  Rudge  was  lost  sight  of  for  good  and 
all — and  that's  five  year  ago  —  I  haven't  talked 
with  any  one  but  you." 

"  You  have  done  me  honor,  I  am  sure." 

"  I  have  come  to  and  fro,  master,  all  through  that 
time,  when  there  was  anything  to  tell,  because  I 
knew  that  you'd  be  angry  with  me  if  I  staid 
away,"  said  Hugh,  blurting  the  words  out,  after  an 
embarrassed  silence ;  "  and  because  I  wished  to 
please  you,  if  I  could,  and  not  to  have  you  go  against 


458  BAENABY  KUDGB. 

me.  There.  That's  the  true  reason  why  I  came  to- 
night.    You  know  that,  master,  I  am  sure." 

"  You  are  a  specious  fellow,"  returned  Sir  John, 
fixing  his  eyes  upon  him,  ''and  carry  two  faces 
under  your  hood,  as  well  as  the  best.  Didn't  you 
give  me  in  this  room,  this  evening,  any  other  reason ; 
no  dislike  of  anybody  who  has  slighted  you,  lately, 
on  all  occasions,  abused  you,  treated  3'ou  with  rude- 
ness ;  acted  towards  you  more  as  if  you  were  a  mon- 
grel dog  than  a  man  like  himself  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  did ! "  cried  Hugh,  his  passion  ris- 
ing, as  the  other  meant  it  should ;  ''  and  I  say  it  all 
over  now  again.  I'd  do  anything  to  have  some 
revenge  on  him  —  anything.  And  when  you  told 
me  that  he  and  all  the  Catholics  would  suffer  from 
those  who  joined  together  under  that  handbill,  I 
said  I'd  make  one  of  'em,  if  their  master  was  the 
devil  himself.  I  am  one  of  'em.  See  whether  I  am 
as  good  as  my  word,  and  turn  out  to  be  among  the 
foremost,  or  no.  I  mayn't  have  much  head,  master, 
but  I've  head  enough  to  remember  those  that  use 
me  ill.  You  shall  see,  and  so  shall  he,  and  so  shall 
hundreds  more,  how  my  spirit  backs  me  when  the 
time  comes.  My  bark  is  nothing  to  my  bite.  Some 
that  I  know  had  better  have  a  wild  lion  among  'em 
than  me,  when  I  am  fairly  loose  —  they  had  !  " 

The  knight  looked  at  him  with  a  smile  of  far 
deeper  meaning  than  ordinary  ;  and  pointing  to  the 
old  cupboard,  followed  him  with  his  eyes  while  he 
filled  and  drank  a  glass  of  liquor :  and  smiled  when 
his  back  was  turned,  with  deeper  meaning  yet. 

"  You  are  in  a  blustering  mood,  my  friend,"  he 
said  when  Hugh  confronted  him  again. 

"  Hot  I,  master ! "  cried  Hugh.     "  I  don't  say  half 


BAENABY  EUDGE.  459 

I  mean.  I  can't.  I  haven't  got  the  gift.  There 
are  talkers  enough  among  us !  I'll  be  one  of  the 
doers." 

"  Oh  !  you  have  joined  those  fellows  then  ?  "  said 
Sir  John  with  an  air  of  most  profound  indiiference. 

"  Yes.  I  went  up  to  the  house  you  told  me  of, 
and  got  put  down  upon  the  muster.  There  was 
another  man  there  named  Dennis  —  " 

"  Dennis,  eh  ?  "  cried  Sir  John,  laughing.  "  Ay, 
ay !  a  pleasant  fellow,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  A  roaring  dog,  master  —  one  after  my  own  heart 

—  hot  upon  the  matter  too  —  red-hot." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  replied  Sir  John  carelessly. 
"  You  don't  happen  to  know  his  trade,  do  you  ?  " 

"He  wouldn't  say,"  cried  Hugh.  "He  keeps  it 
secret." 

"  Ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Sir  John.     "  A  strange  fancy 

—  a  weakness  with  some  persons  —  you'll  know  it 
one  day,  I  dare  swear." 

"  We're  intimate  already,"  said  Hugh. 

"  Quite  natural !  And  have  been  drinking  to- 
gether, eh  ?  "  pursued  Sir  John.  "  Did  you  say 
what  place  you  went  to  in  company,  when  you  left 
Lord  George's  ?  " 

Hugh  had  not  said,  or  thought  of  saying,  but  he 
told  him ;  and  this  inquiry  being  followed  by  a  long 
train  of  questions,  he  related  all  that  had  passed 
both  in  and  out  of  doors,  the  kind  of  people  he  had 
seen,  their  numbers,  state  of  feeling,  mode  of  con- 
versation, apparent  expectations,  and  intentions. 
His  questioning  was  so  artfully  contrived,  that  he 
seemed  even  in  his  own  eyes  to  volunteer  all  this 
information  rather  than  to  have  it  wrested  from 
him  ;  and  he  was  brought  to  this  state  of  feeling  so 


460  BARNABY  BUDGE. 

naturally,  that  wlien  Mr.  Chester  yawned  at  length, 
and  declared  himself  quite  wearied  out,  he  made  a 
rough  kind  of  excuse  for  having  talked  so  much. 

"  There  —  get  you  gone,"  said  Sir  John,  holding 
the  door  open  in  his  hand.  "  You  have  made  a 
pretty  evening's  work.  I  told  you  not  to  do  this. 
You  may  get  into  trouble.  You'll  have  an  opportu- 
nity of  revenging  yourself  on  your  proud  friend 
Haredale,  though,  and  for  that  you'd  hazard  any- 
thing, I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  would,"  retorted  Hugh,  stopping  in  his  passage 
out  and  looking  back  ;  "  but  what  do  I  risk  ?  What 
do  I  stand  a  chance  of  losing,  master  ?  Friends, 
home  ?  A  fig  for  'em  all ;  I  have  none ;  they  are 
nothing  to  me.  Give  me  a  good  scuffle  ;  let  me  pay 
off  old  scores  in  a  bold  riot  where  there  are  men  to 
stand  by  me ;  and  then  use  me  as  you  like  —  it  don't 
matter  much  to  me  what  the  end  is  !  " 

"  What  have  you  done  with  that  paper  ?  "  said 
Sir  John. 

*'  I  have  it  here,  master." 

"  Drop  it  again  as  you  go  along ;  it's  as  well  not 
to  keep  such  things  about  you." 

Hugh  nodded,  and  touching  his  cap  with  an  air  of 
as  much  respect  as  he  could  summon  up,  departed. 

Sir  John,  fastening  the  doors  behind  him,  went 
back  to  his  dressing-room,  and  sat  down  once  again 
before  the  fire,  at  which  he  gazed  for  a  long  time, 
in  earnest  meditation. 

"  This  happens  fortunately,"  he  said,  breaking  into 
a  smile,  ''and  promises  well.  Let  me  see.  My 
relative  and  I,  who  are  the  most  Protestant  fellows 
in  the  world,  give  our  worst  wishes  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  cause ;  and  to  Saville,  who  introduces  their 


BABNABY  KTJDGE.  461 

bill,  I  have  a  personal  objection  besides  ;  but  as  each 
of  us  has  himself  for  the  first  article  in  his  creed, 
we  cannot  commit  ourselves  by  joining  with  a  very 
extravagant  madman,  such  as  this  Gordon  most 
undoubtedly  is.  Now,  really,  to  foment  his  disturb- 
ances in  secret,  through  the  medium  of  such  a  very 
apt  instrument  as  my  savage  friend  here,  may  further 
our  real  ends ;  and  to  express  at  all  becoming  sea- 
sons, in  moderate  and  polite  terms,  a  disapprobation 
of  his  proceedings,  though  we  agree  with  him  in 
principle,  will  certainly  be  to  gain  a  character  for 
honesty  and  uprightness  of  purpose,  which  cannot 
fail  to  do  us  infinite  service,  and  to  raise  us  into 
some  importance.  Good !  So  much  for  public 
grounds.  As  to  private  considerations,  I  confess 
that  if  these  vagabonds  would  make  some  riotous 
demonstration  (which  does  not  appear  impossible), 
and  would  inflict  some  little  chastisement  on  Hare- 
dale  as  a  not  inactive  man  among  his  sect,  it  would  be 
extremely  agreeable  to  my  feelings,  and  would  amuse 
me  beyond  measure.    Good  again  !   Perhaps  better !  " 

When  he  came  to  this  point,  he  took  a  pinch  of 
snuff ;  then  beginning  slowly  to  undress,  he  resumed 
his  meditations  by  saying  with  a  smile,  — 

"  I  fear,  I  do  fear  exceedingly,  that  my  friend  is 
following  fast  in  the  footsteps  of  his  mother.  His 
intimacy  with  Mr.  Dennis  is  very  ominous.  But  I 
have  no  doubt  he  must  have  come  to  that  end  any- 
way. If  I  lend  him  a  helping  hand,  the  only  differ- 
ence is,  that  he  may,  upon  the  whole,  possibly  drink 
a  few  gallons,  or  puncheons,  or  hogsheads,  less  in 
this  life  than  he  otherwise  would.  It's  no  business 
of  mine.     It's  a  matter  of  very  small  importance  ! " 

So  he  took  another  pinch  of  snuff,  and  went  to  bed. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

From  the  workshop  of  the  Golden  Key  there 
issued  forth  a  tinkling  sound,  so  merry  and  good- 
humored,  that  it  suggested  the  idea  of  some  one 
working  blithely,  and  made  quite  pleasant  mvisic. 
No  man  who  hammered  on  at  a  dull  monotonous 
duty  could  have  brought  such  cheerful  notes  from 
steel  and  iron  ;  none  but  a  chirping,  healthy,  honest- 
hearted  fellow,  who  made  the  best  of  everything, 
and  felt  kindly  towards  everybody,  could  have  done 
it  for  an  instant.  He  might  have  been  a  coj^per- 
smith,  and  still  been  musical.  If  he  had  sat  in  a 
jolting  wagon,  full  of  rods  of  iron,  it  seemed  as  if 
he  would  have  brought  some  harmony  out  of  it. 

Tink,  tink,  tink  —  clear  as  a  silver  bell,  and  audi- 
ble at  every  pause  of  the  streets'  harsher  noises,  as 
though  it  said,  ''  I  don't  care ;  nothing  puts  me  out ; 
I  am  resolved  to  be  happy."  Women  scolded, 
children  squalled,  heavy  carts  went  rumbling  by, 
horrible  cries  proceeded  from  the  lungs  of  hawkers ; 
still  it  struck  in  again,  no  higher,  no  lower,  no 
louder,  no  softer ;  not  thrusting  itself  on  people's 
notice  a  bit  the  more  for  having  been  outdone  by 
louder  sounds — tink,  tink,  tink,  tink,  tink. 

It  was  a  perfect  embodiment  of  the  still  small 
voice,  free  from  all  cold,  hoarseness,  huskiness,  or 
462 


BARNABY  BUDGE.  463 

unhealtliiness  of  any  kind ;  foot-passengers  slackened 
their  pace,  and  were  disposed  to  linger  near  it ; 
neighbors  who  had  got  up  splenetic  that  morning, 
felt  good  humor  stealing  on  them  as  they  heard  it, 
and  by  degrees  became  quite  sprightly ;  mothers 
danced  their  babies  to  its  ringing ;  still  the  same 
magical  tink,  tink,  tink,  came  gayly  from  the  work- 
shop of  the  Golden  Key. 

Who  but  the  locksmith  could  have  made  such 
music  ?  A  gleam  of  sun  shining  through  the  un- 
sashed  window,  and  checkering  the  dark  workshop 
with  a  broad  patch  of  light,  fell  full  upon  him,  as 
though  attracted  by  his  sunny  heart.  There  he 
stood  working  at  his  anvil,  his  face  all  radiant  with 
exercise  and  gladness,  his  sleeves  turned  up,  his  wig 
pushed  off  his  shining  forehead  —  the  easiest,  freest, 
happiest  man  in  all  the  world.  Beside  him  sat  a 
sleek  cat,  purring  and  winking  in  the  light,  and  fall- 
ing every  now  and  then  into  an  idle  doze,  as  from 
excess  of  comfort.  Toby  looked  on  from  a  tall 
bench  hard  by  ;  one  beaming  smile,  from  his  broad 
nut-brown  face  down  to  the  slack-baked  buckles  on 
his  shoes.  The  very  locks  that  hung  around  had 
something  jovial  in  their  rust,  and  seemed,  like 
gouty  gentlemen  of  hearty  natures,  disposed  to  joke 
on  their  infirmities.  There  was  nothing  surly  or 
severe  in  the  whole  scene.  It  seemed  impossible 
that  any  one  of  the  innumerable  keys  could  fit  a 
churlish  strong-box  or  a  prison  door.  Cellars  of 
beer  and  wine,  rooms  where  there  were  fires,  books, 
gossip,  and  cheering  laughter  —  these  were  their 
proper  sphere  of  action.  Places  of  distrust  and 
cruelty,  and  restraint,  they  would  have  left  quadru- 
ple locked  forever. 


464  BARNABY   RUDGE. 

Tink,  tink,  tink.  The  locksmith  paused  at  last, 
and  wiped  his  brow.  The  silence  roused  the  cat, 
who,  jumping  softly  down,  crept  to  the  door,  and 
watched  with  tiger  eyes  a  bird-cage  in  an  opposite 
window.  Gabriel  lifted  Toby  to  his  mouth  and  took 
a  hearty  draught. 

Then,  as  he  stood  upright,  with  his  head  flung 
back,  and  his  portly  chest  thrown  out,  you  would 
have  seen  that  Gabriel's  lower  man  was  clothed  in 
military  gear.  Glancing  at  the  wall  beyond,  there 
might  have  been  espied,  hanging  on  their  several 
pegs,  a  cap  and  feather,  broad-sword,  sash,  and  coat 
of  scarlet ;  which  any  man  learned  in  such  matters 
would  have  known,  from  their  make  and  pattern,  to 
be  the  uniform  of  a  sergeant  in  the  Koyal  East 
London  Volunteers. 

As  the  locksmith  put  his  mug  down,  empty,  on 
the  bench,  whence  it  had  smiled  on  him  before,  he 
glanced  at  these  articles  with  a  laughing  eye,  and 
looking  at  them  with  his  head  a  little  on  one  side, 
as  though  he  would  get  them  all  into  a  focus,  said, 
leaning  on  his  hammer,  — 

"  Time  was,  now,  I  remember,  when  I  was  like  to 
run  mad  with  the  desire  to  wear  a  coat  of  that 
color.  If  any  one  (except  my  father)  had  called  me 
a  fool  for  my  pains,  how  I  should  have  fired  and 
fumed !  But  what  a  fool  I  must  hare  been, 
sure-ly ! " 

"  Ah ! "  sighed  Mrs.  Varden,  who  had  entered  un- 
observed. "  A  fool  indeed.  A  man  at  your  time  of 
life,  Varden,  should  know  better  now." 

"  Why,  what  a  ridiculous  woman  you  are,  Mar- 
tha ! "  said  the  locksmith,  turning  round  with  a 
smile. 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  465 

"  Certainly,"  returned  Mrs.  V.  with  great  demure- 
ness.  "  Of  course  I  am.  I  know  that,  Varden. 
Thank  you." 

"  I  mean  —  "  began  the  locksmith. 

''  Yes,"  said  his  wife,  "  I  know  what  you  mean. 
You  speak  quite  plain  enough  to  be  understood, 
Varden.  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  adapt  yourself  to 
my  capacity,  I  am  sure." 

"Tut,  tut,  Martha,"  rejoined  the  locksmith; 
"  don't  take  offence  at  nothing.  I  mean,  how  strange 
it  is  of  you  to  run  down  volunteering,  when  it's 
done  to  defend  you  and  all  the  other  women,  and 
our  own  fireside  and  everybody  else's,  in  case  of 
need ! " 

"  It's  unchristian,"  cried  Mrs.  Varden,  shaking  her 
head. 

"  Unchristian  ! "  said  the  locksmith.  "  Why, 
what  the  devil  —  " 

Mrs.  Varden  looked  at  the  ceiling,  as  in  expecta- 
tion that  the  consequence  of  this  profanity  would  be 
the  immediate  descent  of  the  four-post  bedstead  on 
the  second  floor,  together  with  the  best  sitting- 
room  on  the  first ;  but  no  visible  judgment  occur- 
ring, she  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  begged  her  hus- 
band, in  a  tone  of  resignation,  to  go  on,  and  by  all 
means  to  blaspheme  as  much  as  possible,  because 
he  knew  she  liked  it. 

The  locksmith  did  for  a  moment  seem  disposed  to 
gratif}^  her,  but  he  gave  a  great  gulp,  and  mildly 
rejoined,  — 

"  I  was  going  to  say,  what  on  earth  do  you  call  it 

unchristian  for  ?     Which  would  be  most  unchristian, 

Martha  —  to  sit  quietly  down  and  let  our  houses  be 

sacked  by  a  foreign  army,  or  to  turn  out  like  men 

VOL.  I. -30. 


466  BABNABY  ETTDGE. 

and  drive  'em  off  ?  Shouldn't  I  be  a  nice  sort  of  a 
Christian  if  I  crept  into  a  corner  of  my  own  chim- 
ney, and  looked  on  while  a  parcel  of  whiskered 
savages  bore  off  Dolly  —  or  you  ?  " 

When  he  said  "  or  you,"  Mrs.  Varden,  despite 
herself,  relaxed  into  a  smile.  There  was  something 
complimentary  in  the  idea.  "In  such  a  state  of 
things  as  that,  indeed  —  "  she  simpered. 

"As  that ! "  repeated  the  locksmith.  " Well, that 
•would  be  the  state  of  things  directly.  Even  Miggs 
would  go.  Some  black  tambourine-player,  with  a 
great  turban  on,  would  be  bearing  her  off,  and,  unless 
the  tambourine-player  was  proof  against  kicking  and 
scratching,  it's  my  belief  he'd  have  the  worst  of  it. 
Ha,  ha,  ha !  I'd  forgive  the  tambourine-player.  I 
wouldn't  have  him  interfered  with  on  any  account, 
poor  fellow."  And  here  the  locksmith  laughed 
again  so  heartily,  that  tears  came  into  his  eyes  — 
much  to  Mrs.  Varden's  indignation,  who  thought  the 
capture  of  so  sound  a  Protestant  and  estimable  a 
private  character  as  Miggs,  by  a  pagan  negro,  a  cir- 
cumstance too  shocking  and  awful  for  contemplation. 

The  picture  Gabriel  had  drawn,  indeed,  threatened 
serious  consequences,  and  would  indubitably  have 
led  to  them,  but  luckily  at  that  moment  a  light 
footstep  crossed  the  threshold,  and  Dolly,  running 
in,  threw  her  arms  around  her  old  father's  neck  and 
hugged  him  tight. 

"  Here  she  is  at  last ! "  cried  Gabriel.  "  And  how 
well  you  look,  Doll,  and  how  late  you  are,  my  dar- 
ling ! " 

How  well  she  looked  ?  Well  ?  Why,  if  he  had 
exhausted  every  laudatory  adjective  in  the  diction- 
ary, it  wouldn't  have  been  praise  enough.     When 


BARNABY   RUDGE.  467 

and  where  was  there  ever  such  a  plump,  roguish, 
comely,  bright-eyed,  enticing,  bewitching,  captivat- 
ing, maddening  little  puss  in  all  this  world  as 
Dolly  ?  What  was  the  Dolly  of  five  years  ago  to 
the  Dolly  of  that  day  ?  How  many  coachmakers, 
saddlers,  cabinet-makers,  and  professors  of  other 
useful  arts,  had  deserted  their  fathers,  mothers, 
sisters,  brothers,  and,  most  of  all,  their  cousins,  for 
the  love  of  her !  How  many  unknown  gentlemen  — 
supposed  to  be  of  mighty  fortunes,  if  not  titles  — 
had  waited  round  the  corner  after  dark,  and  tempted 
Miggs  the  incorruptible  with  golden  guineas,  to  de- 
liver offers  of  marriage  folded  up  in  love-letters ! 
How  many  disconsolate  fathers  and  substantial 
tradesmen  had  waited  on  the  locksmith  for  the  same 
purpose,  with  dismal  tales  of  how  their  sons  had 
lost  their  appetites,  and  taken  to  shut  themselves 
up  in  dark  bedrooms,  and  wandering  in  desolate 
suburbs  with  pale  faces,  and  all  because  of  Dolly 
Varden's  loveliness  and  cruelty  !  How  many  young 
men,  in  all  previous  times  of  unprecedented  steadi- 
ness, had  turned  suddenly  wild  and  wicked  for  the 
same  reason,  and,  in  an  ecstasy  of  unrequited  love, 
taken  to  wrench  off  door-knockers,  and  invert  the 
boxes  of  rheumatic  watchmen  !  How  had  she  re- 
cruited the  king's  service,  both  by  sea  and  land, 
through  rendering  desperate  his  loving  subjects  be- 
tween the  ages  of  eighteen  and  twenty-five  !  How 
many  young  ladies  had  publicly  professed,  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  that  for  their  tastes  she  was 
much  too  short,  too  tall,  too  bold,  too  cold,  too  stout, 
too  thin,  too  fair,  too  dark  —  too  everything  but 
handsome  !  How  many  old  ladies,  taking  counsel 
together,  had  thanked  Heaven  their  daughters  were 


468  BAKNABY   KUDGE. 

not  like  her,  and  had  hoped  she  might  come  to  no 
harm,  and  had  thought  she  would  come  to  no  good, 
and  had  wondered  what  people  saw  in  her,  and  had 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  she  was  "  going  off  " 
in  her  looks,  or  had  never  come  on  in  them,  and  that 
she  was  a  thorough  imposition  and  a  popular  mis- 
take ! 

And  yet  here  was  this  same  Dolly  Varden,  so 
whimsical  and  hard  to  please  that  she  was  Dolly 
Varden  still,  all  smiles  and  dimples,  and  pleasant 
looks,  and  caring  no  more  for  the  fifty  or  sixty  young 
fellows  who  at  that  very  moment  were  breaking 
their  hearts  to  marry  her,  than  if  so  many  oysters 
had  been  crossed  in  love  and  opened  afterwards. 

Dolly  hugged  her  father,  as  has  been  already 
stated,  and  having  hugged  her  mother  also,  accom- 
panied both  into  the  little  parlor,  where  the  cloth 
was  already  laid  for  dinner,  and  where  Miss  Miggs 
—  a  trifle  more  rigid  and  bony  than  of  yore  — 
received  her  with  a  sort  of  hysterical  gasp,  intended 
for  a  smile.  Into  the  hands  of  that  young  virgin 
she  delivered  her  bonnet  and  walking-dress  (all  of  a 
dreadful,  artful,  and  designing  kind),  and  then  said 
with  a  laugh,  which  rivalled  the  locksmith's  music, 
"  How  glad  I  always  am  to  be  at  home  again  ! " 

"And  how  glad  we  always  are,  Doll,"  said  her 
father,  putting  back  the  dark  hair  from  her  spark- 
ling eyes,  ''  to  have  you  at  home  !     Give  me  a  kiss." 

If  there  had  been  anybody  of  the  male  kind  there 
to  see  her  do  it  —  but  there  was  not  —  it  was  a 
mercy. 

"  I  don't  like  your  being  at  the  Warren,"  said  the 
locksmith;  "I  can't  bear  to  have  you  out  of  my 
sight.     And  what  is  the  news  over  yonder,  Doll  ?  " 


BAHNABY   EUDGE.  469 

"What  news  there  is,  I  think  you  know  already," 
replied  his  daughter.     "  I  am  sure  you  do,  though." 

"  Ay  ?  "  cried  the  locksmith.     "  What's  that  ?  " 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Dolly,  "  you  know  very  well. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  why  Mr.  Haredale  —  oh,  how 
gruff  he  is  again,  to  be  sure  !  —  has  been  away  from 
home  for  some  days  past,  and  why  he  is  travelling 
about  (we  know  he  is  travelling  because  of  his  letters) 
without  telling  his  own  niece  why  or  wherefore." 

"  Miss  Emma  doesn't  want  to  know,  I'll  swear," 
returned  the  locksmith. 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  said  Dolly  ;  "  but  /  do,  at 
any  rate.  Do  tell  me.  Why  is  he  so  secret,  and 
what  is  this  ghost  story,  which  nobody  is  to  tell  Miss 
Emma,  and  which  seems  to  be  mixed  up  with  his 
going  away  ?  Now  I  see  you  know  by  your  color- 
ing so." 

"  What  the  story  means,  or  is,  or  has  to  do  with 
it,  I  know  no  more  than  you,  my  dear,"  returned  the 
locksmith,  "  except  that  it's  some  foolish  fear  of  lit- 
tle Solomon's  —  which  has,  indeed,  no  meaning  in 
it,  I  suppose.  As  to  Mr.  Haredale's  journey,  he  goes, 
as  I  believe  —  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolly. 

"  As  I  believe,"  resumed  the  locksmith,  pinching 
her  cheek,  "  on  business,  Doll.  What  it  may  be  is 
quite  another  matter.  Read  Blue  Beard,  and  don't 
be  too  curious,  pet;  it's  no  business  of  yours  or 
mine,  depend  upon  that ;  and  here's  dinner,  which 
is  much  more  to  the  purpose." 

Dolly  might  have  remonstrated  against  this  sum- 
mary dismissal  of  the  subject,  notwithstanding  the 
appearance  of  dinner,  but  at  the  mention  of  Blue 
Beard  Mrs.  Varden  interposed,  protesting  she  could 


470  BAENABY  BUDGE. 

not  find  it  in  her  conscience  to  sit  tamely  by, 
and  hear  her  child  recommended  to  peruse  the  ad- 
ventures of  a  Turk  and  Mussulman  —  far  less  of  a 
fabulous  Turk,  which  she  considered  that  potentate 
to  be.  She  held  that  in  such  stirring  and  tremen- 
dous times  as  those  in  which  they  lived,  it  would  be 
much  more  to  the  purpose  if  Dolly  became  a  regu- 
lar subscriber  to  The  Thunderer,  where  she  would 
have  an  opportunity  of  reading  Lord  George  Gor- 
don's speeches  word  for  word,  which  would  be  a 
greater  comfort  and  solace  to  her  than  a  hundred 
and  fifty  Blue  Beards  ever  could  impart.  She 
appealed,  in  support  of  this  proposition,  to  Miss 
Miggs,  then  in  waiting,  who  said  that  indeed  the 
l)eace  of  mind  she  had  derived  from  the  perusal  of 
that  paper  generally,  but  especially  of  one  article 
of  the  very  last  week  as  ever  was,  entitled  "  Great 
Britain  drenched  in  gore,"  exceeded  all  belief ;  the 
same  composition,  she  added,  had  also  wrought  such 
a  comforting  effect  on  the  mind  of  a  married  sister 
of  hers,  then  resident  at  Golden  Lion  Court,  num- 
ber twenty-sivin,  second  bell-handle  on  the  right- 
hand  doorpost,  that,  being  in  a  delicate  state  of 
health,  and,  in  fact,  expecting  an  addition  to  her 
family,  she  had  been  seized  with  fits  directly  after 
its  perusal,  and  had  raved  of  the  inquisition  ever 
since ;  to  the  great  improvement  of  her  husband 
and  friends.  Miss  Miggs  went  on  to  say  that  she 
would  recommend  all  those  Avhose  hearts  were  hard- 
ened to  hear  Lord  George  themselves,  whom  she 
commended  first,  in  respect  of  his  steady  Protes- 
tantism, then  of  his  oratory,  then  of  his  eyes,  then 
of  his  nose,  then  of  his  legs,  and  lastly  of  his  figure 
generally,  which  she  looked  upon  as  fit  for  any  statue, 


BAENABY   RUDGE.  471 

prince,  or  angel,  to  which  sentiment  Mrs.  Varden 
fully  subscribed. 

Mrs.  Varden  having  cut  in,  looked  at  a  box  upon 
the  mantelshelf,  painted  in  imitation  of  a  very  red 
brick  dwelling-house,  with  a  yellow  roof ;  having  at 
top  a  real  chimney,  down  which  voluntary  subscrib- 
ers dropped  their  silver,  gold,  or  pence,  into  the 
parlor  ;  and  on  the  door  the  counterfeit  presentment 
of  a  brass  plate,  whereon  was  legibly  inscribed 
"  Protestant  Association  :  "  —  and  looking  at  it,  said 
that  it  was  to  her  a  source  of  poignant  misery  to 
think  that  Varden  never  had,  of  all  his  substance, 
dropped  anything  into  that  temple,  save  once  in 
secret  —  as  she  afterwards  discovered  —  two  frag- 
ments of  tobacco-pipe,  which  she  hoped  would  not 
be  put  down  to  his  last  account.  That  Dolly,  she 
was  grieved  to  say,  was  no  less  backward  in  her 
contributions,  better  loving,  as  it  seemed,  to  purchase 
ribbons  and  such  gauds  than  to  encourage  the  great 
cause,  then  in  such  heavy  tribulation  ;  and  that  she 
did  entreat  her  (her  father  she  much  feared  could 
not  be  moved)  not  to  despise,  but  imitate,  the  bright 
example  of  JNIiss  Miggs,  who  flung  her  wages,  as  it 
were,  into  the  very  countenance  of  the  Pope,  and 
bruised  his  features  with  her  quarter's  money. 

"  Oh,  mim,"  said  Miggs,  "  don't  relude  to  that.  I 
had  no  intentions,  mim,  that  nobody  should  know. 
Such  sacrifices  as  I  can  make  are  quite  a  widder's 
mite.  It's  all  I  have,"  cried  Miggs  with  a  great 
burst  of  tears  —  for  with  her  they  never  came  on  by 
degrees  —  "  but  it's  made  up  to  me  in  other  ways ; 
it's  well  made  up." 

This  was  quite  true,  though  not  perhaps  in  the 
sense  that  Miggs  intended.    As  she  never  failed  to 


472  BARNABY  EUDGE. 

keep  her  self-denial  full  in  Mrs.  Varden's  view,  it 
drew  forth  so  many  gifts  of  caps  and  gowns  and 
other  articles  of  dress,  that  upon  the  whole  the  red- 
brick house  was  perhaps  the  best  investment  for  her 
small  capital  she  could  possibly  have  hit  upon ; 
returning  her  interest  at  the  rate  of  seven  or  eight 
per  cent  in  money,  and  fifty  at  least  in  personal 
repute  and  credit. 

"You  needn't  cry,  Miggs,"  said  Mrs.  Yarden,  her- 
self in  tears  ;  "you  needn't  be  ashamed  of  it,  though 
your  poor  mistress  is  on  the  same  side." 

Miggs  howled  at  this  remark  in  a  peculiarly  dis- 
mal way,  and  said  she  knowed  that  master  hated 
her.  That  it  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  live  in  fami- 
lies and  have  dislikes,  and  not  give  satisfactions. 
That  to  make  divisions  was  a  thing  she  could  not 
abear  to  think  of,  neither  could  her  feelings  let  her 
do  it.  That  if  it  was  master's  wishes  as  she  and  him 
should  part,  it  was  best  they  should  part,  and  she 
hoped  he  might  be  the  happier  for  it,  and  always 
wishes  him  well,  and  that  he  might  find  somebody 
as  would  meet  his  dispositions.  It  would  be  a  hard 
trial,  she  said,  to  part  from  such  a  missis,  but  she 
could  meet  any  suffering  when  her  conscience  told 
her  she  was  in  the  rights,  and  therefore  she  was 
willing  even  to  go  that  lengths.  She  did  not  think, 
she  added,  that  she  could  long  survive  the  separa- 
tions, but,  as  she  was  hated  and  looked  upon  un- 
pleasant, perhaps  her  dying  as  soon  as  possible 
would  be  the  best  endings  for  all  parties.  With 
this  affecting  conclusion.  Miss  Miggs  shed  more 
tears,  and  sobbed  abundantly. 

"  Can  you  bear  this,  Yarden  ?  "  said  his  wife  in  a 
solemn  voice,  laying  down  her  knife  and  fork. 


BARNABY  RUDGE.  473 

"Why,  not  very  well,  my  clear,"  rejoined  the  lock- 
smith, "  but  I  try  to  keep  my  temper." 

"  Don't  let  there  be  words  on  my  account,  mim," 
sobbed  Miggs.  "  It's  much  the  best  that  we  should 
part.  I  wouldn't  stay  —  oh,  gracious  me  !  —  and 
make  dissensions,  not  for  a  annual  gold  mine,  and 
found  in  tea  and  sugar." 

Lest  the  reader  should  be  at  any  loss  to  discover 
the  cause  of  Miss  Miggs's  deep  emotion,  it  may  be 
whispered  apart  that  happening  to  be  listening,  as 
her  custom  sometimes  was,  when  Gabriel  and  his 
wife  conversed  together,  she  had  heard  the  lock- 
smith's joke  relative  to  the  foreign  black  who  played 
the  tambourine,  and  bursting  with  the  spiteful  feel- 
ings which  the  taunt  awoke  in  her  fair  breast, 
exploded  in  the  manner  we  have  witnessed.  Mat- 
ters having  now  arrived  at  a  crisis,  the  locksmith, 
as  usual,  and  for  the  sake  of  peace  and  quietness, 
gave  in. 

"  What  are  you  crying  for,  girl  ? "  he  said. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  What  are  you  talk- 
ing about  hatred  for  ?  /  don't  hate  you ;  I  don't 
hate  anybody.  Dry  your  eyes  and  make  yourself 
agreeable,  m  Heaven's  name,  and  let  us  all  be  happy 
while  we  can." 

The  allied  powers  deeming  it  good  generalship  to 
consider  this  a  sufficient  apology  on  the  part  of  the 
enemy,  and  confession  of  having  been  in  the  wrong, 
did  dry  their  eyes  and  take  it  in  good  part.  Miss 
iMiggs  observed  that  she  bore  no  malice,  no,  not  to 
her  greatest  foe,  whom  she  rather  loved  the  more, 
indeed,  the  greater  persecution  she  sustained.  Mrs. 
Varden  approved  of  this  meek  and  forgiving  spirit 
in  high  terms,  and  incidentally  declared,  as  a  closing 


474  BARNABY  ETJDGE. 

article  of  agreement,  that  Dolly  should  accompany 
her  to  the  Clerkenwell  branch  of  the  Association 
that  very  night.  This  was  an  extraordinary  instance 
of  her  great  prudence  and  policy ;  having  had  this 
end  in  view  from  the  first,  and  entertaining  a  secret 
misgiving  that  the  locksmith  (who  was  bold  when 
Dolly  was  in  question)  would  object,  she  had  backed 
Miss  Miggs  up  to  this  point,  in  order  that  she  might 
have  him  at  a  disadvantage.  The  manoeuvre  suc- 
ceeded so  well  that  Gabriel  only  made  a  wry  face, 
and,  with  the  warning  he  had  just  had  fresh  in  his 
mind,  did  not  dare  to  say  one  word. 

The  difference  ended,  therefore,  in  Miggs  being 
presented  with  a  gown  by  Mrs.  Varden  and  half  a 
crown  by  Dolly,  as  if  she  had  eminently  distin- 
guished herself  in  the  paths  of  morality  and  good- 
ness. Mrs.  v.,  according  to  custom,  expressed  her 
hope  that  Varden  would  take  a  lesson  from  what 
had  passed,  and  learn  more  generous  conduct  for  the 
time  to  come ;  and  the  dinner  being  now  cold,  and 
nobody's  appetite  very  much  improved  by  what  had 
passed,  they  went  on  with  it,  as  ]\Irs.  Varden  said, 
"like  Christians." 

As  there  was  to  be  a  grand  parade  of  the  Royal 
East  London  Volunteers  that  afternoon,  the  lock- 
smith did  no  more  work  ;  but  sat  down  comfortably 
with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  his  arm  round  his 
pretty  daughter's  waist,  looking  lovingly  on  Mrs. 
V.  from  time  to  time,  and  exhibiting,  from  the  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot,  one  smiling  sur- 
face of  good  humor.  And  to  be  sure,  when  it  was 
time  to  dress  him  in  his  regimentals,  and  Dolly, 
hanging  about  him  in  all  kinds  of  graceful  winning 
ways,  helped  to  button  and  buckle  and  brush  him 


h 


M  'mL 


BAKNABY  RUDGE.  475 

up,  and  get  him  into  one  of  the  tightest  coats  that 
ever  was  made  by  mortal  tailor,  he  was  the  proudest 
father  in  all  England. 

"  What  a  handy  jade  it  is  !  "  said  the  locksmith  to 
Mrs.  Varden,  who  stood  by  with  folded  hands  — 
rather  proud  of  her  husband  too  —  while  Miggs  held 
his  cap  and  sword  at  arm's-length,  as  if  mistrusting 
that  the  latter  might  run  some  one  through  the  body 
of  its  own  accord;  "but  never  marry  a  soldier,  Doll, 
my  dear." 

Dolly  didn't  ask  why  not,  or  say  a  word,  indeed, 
but  stooped  her  head  down  very  low  to  tie  his 
sash. 

"  I  never  wear  this  dress,"  said  honest  Gabriel, 
"  but  I  think  of  poor  Joe  Willet.  I  loved  Joe  ;  he 
was  always  a  favorite  of  mine.  Poor  Joe !  —  Dear 
heart,  my  girl,  don't  tie  me  in  so  tight." 

Dolly  laughed  —  not  like  herself  at  all  —  the 
strangest  little  laugh  that  could  be  —  and  held  her 
head  down  lower  still. 

"  Poor  Joe  !  "  resumed  the  locksmith,  muttering 
to  himself ;  "  I  always  wish  he  had  come  to  me.  I 
might  have  made  it  up  between  them  if  he  had. 
Ah  !  old  John  made  a  great  mistake  in  his  way  of 
acting  by  that  lad  —  a  great  mistake.  —  Have  you 
nearly  tied  that  sash,  my  dear  ?  " 

What  an  ill-made  sash  it  was  !  There  it  was  loose 
again  and  trailing  on  the  ground.  Dolly  was  obliged 
to  kneel  down,  and  recommence  at  the  beginning. 

"Kever  mind  young  Willet,  Varden,"  said  his 
wife,  frowning;  "you  might  find  some  one  more 
deserving  to  talk  about,  I  think." 

Miss  Miggs  gave  a  great  sniff  to  the  same  effect. 

"Nay,  Martha,"  cried  the  locksmith,  "don't  let 


476  BARNABY   EUDGE. 

US  bear  too  hard  upon  him.  If  the  lad  is  dead 
indeed,  "O'e'll  deal  kindly  by  his  memory." 

''  A  runaway  and  a  vagabond  ! "  said  ]\[rs.  Varden. 

Miss  Miggs  expressed  her  concurrence  as  before. 

"A  runaway,  my  dear,  but  not  a  vagabond," 
returned  the  locksmith  in  a  gentle  tone.  "  He  be- 
haved himself  well,  did  Joe  —  always  —  and  was  a 
handsome,  manly  fellow.  Don't  call  him  a  vaga- 
bond, Martha." 

Mrs.  Varden  coughed  —  and  so  did  j\Iiggs. 

"  He  tried  hard  to  gain  your  good  opinion,  Martha, 
I  can  tell  you,"  said  the  locksmith,  smiling,  and 
stroking  his  chin.  "  Ah !  that  he  did.  It  seems 
but  yesterday  that  he  followed  me  out  to  the  May- 
pole door  one  night,  and  begged  me  not  to  sa}^  how 
like  a  boy  they  used  him  —  say  here,  at  home,  he 
meant,  though  at  the  time,  I  recollect,  I  didn't 
understand.  *  And  how's  Miss  Dolly,  sir  ? '  says 
Joe,"  pursued  the  locksmith,  musing  sorrowfully. 
"  Ah  !     Poor  Joe  ! " 

"Well,  I  declare!"  cried  Miggs.  "Oh!  Good- 
ness gracious  me ! " 

"  "\Miat's  the  matter  now  ?  "  said  Gabriel,  turning 
sharply  to  her. 

"Why,  if  here  ain't  Miss  Dolly,"  said  the  hand- 
maid, stooping  down  to  look  into  her  face,  "  a  giving 
"way  to  floods  of  tears.  Oh,  mim !  oh,  sir !  Raly 
it's  given  me  such  a  turn,"  cried  the  susceptible 
damsel,  pressing  her  hand  upon  her  side  to  quell 
the  palpitation  of  her  heart,  "that  you  might  knock 
me  down  with  a  feather." 

The  locksmith,  after  glancing  at  Miss  Miggs  as  if 
he  could  have  wished  to  have  a  feather  brought 
straightway,  looked  on  with  a  broad   stare  while 


BAKNABY  BUDGE.  477 

Dolly  hurried  away,  followed  by  that  sympathizing 
young  woman  :  then,  turning  to  his  wife,  stammered 
out,  "  Is  Dolly  ill  ?  Have  /  done  anything  ?  Is  it 
my  fault  ?  " 

"  Your  fault ! "  cried  Mrs.  V.  reproachfully. 
"There  —  you  had  better  make  haste  out." 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  said  poor  Gabriel.  "  It 
was  agreed  that  Mr.  Edward's  name  v.^as  never  to  be 
mentioned,  and  I  have  not  spoken  of  him,  have  I  ?  " 

Mrs.  Varden  merely  replied  that  she  had  no  pa- 
tience with  him,  and  bounced  off  after  the  other 
two.  The  unfortunate  locksmith  wound  his  sash 
about  him,  girded  on  his  sword,  put  on  his  cap, 
and  walked  out. 

"  I  am  not  much  of  a  dab  at  my  exercise,"  he  said 
under  his  breath,  "  but  I  shall  get  into  fewer  scrapes 
at  that  work  than  at  this.  Every  man  came  into 
the  world  for  something;  my  department  seems  to 
be  to  make  every  woman  cry  without  meaning  it. 
It's  rather  hard  !  " 

But  he  forgot  it  before  he  reached  the  end  of  the 
street,  and  went  on  with  a  shining  face,  nodding  to 
the  neighbors,  and  showering  about  his  friendly 
greetings  like  mild  spring  rain. 


AA    000  507  202    o 


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